RED
by Vivian Cullen
Summary: She's is just waiting... Biding her time to make her exit... She just never thought someone would... just notice.
1. FML

**Chapter 1: FML**

_**Bella**_

People in this town could tell you I'm introverted and shy, not really sociable.

People who _know_ me in this town can tell you I have a snarky attitude, tend to be pissy, have a somewhat dry sense of humor. I really don't care what those people think.

Really. Don't. Care.

I can tell you it's useless to express your opinions. People either don't listen, don't understand, don't WANT to understand, or simply just don't give a fuck. So I don't either.

My sole purpose in this life is to be a housemaid for my father since he can't clean and/or cook to save his life. I'm an ear for my mom so she can rant on and on and on over the phone about how much her life sucks, what she needs, what she deserves, what she has, what she doesn't have...on and on and on...you get the gist of it.

I really _really _hate telephones.

No brothers or sisters to speak of. _Thank God! _That would make me a nanny too.

Friends... If by friends you mean non-blood related people I socialize and interact with on a daily basis, then yes I have friends. If by friends you means people I can trust, relate to, and enjoy having around, that's definitely a no.

I'm suspicious of anyone and everyone. Why the fuck would you want me around? Seriously. I don't have anything you could want. Nothing remotely interesting to add to the conversation, which has been proven over and over when anything I say gets dismissed or rebuffed. So really, I don't understand why people bother with me.

I'm guessing it's because of Charlie. My dad is Forks Chief of Police. Awesome, right? He's an all right guy, don't get me wrong. He doesn't get all in my business like some parents; he gives me my space. Maybe a little too much space but is only because he knows I'll never get in trouble.

With who?

With what?...

Exactly.

This is my last year at Forks High. I'm a senior. _Woohoo!_ A senior should be excited, joyous and proud to finally be on their last year of this torturous path that is high school. I just want it to be over and done. I'll go through the motions, pass every class, smile at the appropriate moments, socialize the minimal amount required and once it's done, I'm outta here.

I'll present Charlie with my diploma, so he can frame it or do whatever the hell he wants with it, and be all proud and shit. I'll thank him for giving a bed to rest, food to cook, clothes to hide in. He's been good to me. I know he's the best father he knows how to be. I can't blame him for it... this existence that is my life. This is all me. My mistakes, my stupidity, my awkwardness, my inability to be normal.

And then, I'm done.

I'll hit that restart button and hope to get it right the next time. The magnitude of how much I've fucked up here is immeasurable. Hell, my mother left because she couldn't stand being around me. They don't have to say it to my face. She only calls when there's no one else to bitch to. It definitely doesn't come from the heart or because she misses me. I know this and I accept it. If she needs me to listen to her drunken rants, I'll do it. That's why I'm here. Right?

Until I'm not anymore.

Then they're screwed.

* * *

A/N: So, yeah.


	2. Encounter

**Chapter 2: Encounter**

**_Bella_**

So here I am, sitting in my truck at the school parking lot, exorcising all these emotions into a piece of paper until the first bell rings out, probably announcing I'll be late for first period, since I don't have it in me to care. Watching all my classmates greet each other with hugs, kisses, high-fives, fist bumps...yeah, that's another thing about me.

Don't touch me.

EVER.

Do not hug me, or expect a hug; do not pat me on the back if you appreciate having two arms; _HA! _don't even delude yourself into thinking I'll shake your hand, that's just gross; don't come near my face, not even if there's one of those death beetles crawling up my nose, he's welcomed to my brain; my hair is off limits, period; my personal space is NOT your personal space.

I grab the keys and my backpack, and decide to start my day. It's been raining - _what's new -_ so the pavement's all muddy and slippery. I consciously get my two feet out my truck without slipping and getting my ass wet.

_Yay! Two points for me! _

But of course, my mental happy dance is cut short by the god-awful sound of screeching tires on wet concrete. It's so loud I can't think. From the corner of my eye a flash of metallic silver makes me react and jump back, efficiently slamming my backside into the wet, mother-fucking ground – of course. First day of school and I'm on the ground, my ass is wet, I'm positive my skull cracked open because the pain is blinding me… And all of this in front of the entire school population. _Okay, okay, not the entire school just the stragglers like me who are late._

As an afterthought, I realize I'm getting wetter by the second since I'm still lying on my back. Starting to get up, I hear it…

The most beautiful sound I've ever heard.

"No! Don't move! Fuck! I'm sorry. Did I hit you? Oh God! Please be okay. Shit shit shit!"

_Beautiful. _

I feel strong hands pushing my shoulders back down. I look to my left shoulder to confirm that in fact someone IS FUCKING TOUCHING ME! Long, yet masculine fingers are pressing down on my shirt. Firm and strong but gentle, all the same. I can't explain it. The pain at the back of my head is killing me, but a feeling I can't quite recognize is slowly creeping up on me. It's like feathers and lightness, like when you jump in on one of those really fluffy beds and you feel you're melting into it.

So soft...so comfortable...so peaceful...

"Hey, beautiful. Don't you fall asleep on me."

There's that voice again.

_Where the hell is it coming from, dammit?! _

"Open your eyes. Hey, you okay?" That same light feathery touch is back again, but I feel as if it's tracing my hairline, caressing down through my cheekbone until it reaches my jawline.

And then it hits me…

_Open your eyes Bella. Someone is fucking touching you!_

In an instant, I slap away the hand that's encroaching on my very private personal space and sit up. I scurry and back up to the side of my truck.

"Don't fucking touch me." Sadly, my threat comes out all whispery and shit, not ass-kicking as I wanted it to sound like.

"I...I...um, I'm...sorry." The most hypnotizing green eyes I've _EVER seen _are looking right at me.

Right fucking through me.

I'm speechless. There's a look of panic in his eyes that I'm surely mirroring. It suddenly shifts into what looks like amazement, but he blinks rapidly and it's gone.

_Huh. Weird._

"Bella!" Angela is kneeling beside me and I flinch.

"Shit!" I say shuddering, because fucking A! People keep coming out of nowhere. "Oh my God! What happened? Are you all right?"

"I'm okay. Don't have a cow, Ang. You know me. I love hugging the floor." Because, really, this is the norm for me. I tend to fall a lot.

"You think you can stand up?" she says. As I'm reaching for her hand, that voice is suddenly right by my freaking ear.

"Here. Let me help you."

I turn my head and he's right there.

_Jesus mother-fucking Christ. He's beautiful._

Before a single coherent thought can be formed in my head, he snakes an arm around my waist and another one under my arm pressing his hand on my back.

And I'm standing.

And I'm standing with his arms still around me.

And we're so close I can smell him... as if light has a smell. But that's all that comes to mind as I press myself closer and inhale. Light, brilliant amazing light fills my blackness and I start feeling a bit dizzy. I feel...

_I FEEL..._

"Wow." I hear someone say.

I jump back, startled by his voice again.

_Wait. _

_Was he sniffing my hair?_

_You're one to talk. Seriously. LIGHT?! _

I'm so ridiculous.

"Sorry," I say, my face reddening with embarrassment. He lets me go and I wobble a bit. I look down covering my face with my hair, because I just want to disappear. I'm making an ass of myself here and it's not even nine o'clock in the morning.

Very low, like a whisper, I hear, "What are you sorry for..." But before I can look up and decipher if it was said sarcastically or with genuine concern, Ms. Cope and a couple other teachers are all up on my face. They decide I'm in need of a tour of the nurse's office, but I'm too stunned to argue. So as always, I go with it and let them have their peace of mind. I go to the nurse, she checks me out. I know I'm fine, she confirms this. What's another bump in the head, right? She doesn't touch me. She knows she's not allowed.

"Don't you worry, dear. Mr. Cullen will be reprimanded for his actions," Ms. Cope says from the back of the nurse's office.

_What?_

"The nerve of that kid! Speeding on school property. He could have killed you Bella!"

_Who?!_

"If it weren't for how nice and genuine his parents are he would surely be expelled."

_Wait a minute! This is getting out of hand!_

"Ms. Cope, what are you talking about?" I snap at her irritated, because she's apparently unable to shut up and she's getting on my nerves.

"Why, Bella. The new kid." She pauses, though looking a little exasperated with me.

_Good, maybe she'll just leave._

"Edward Cullen." She's looking at me exasperated, expecting what? I've no idea. I just sit on the nurse's dingy cot with a blank expression on my face.

I know who Edward Cullen is. Well, _now_ I know who Edward Cullen is.

He almost squished my insides with his car this morning. He's the one with the stupid shiny Volvo. He's the one with the piercing green eyes. He's the one who's finally made me feel… something.

Even if it's embarrassment. Or dizziness.

He's the one.

The one who can see right through all of my shit and expose the real me to the world.

Because you see, in those few seconds we had this morning, the world ceased to exist. He came to it literally almost running me over, almost breaking me, without the possibility of building myself back up. With just his unsettling gaze, he dissolved my armor and left me naked to the whole world to see.

He's the one.

He's the one who can destroy everything.


	3. Party

**Chapter 3: Party**

**_Bella_**

_Please kill me now. _

_Fucking strobe lights._

_Fucking fog machine._

_What year is it, 1999? Jeez!_

_I have a headache_.

What the hell am I doing here, anyway... Oh, right. Can't say no to Angela. She's nice to everyone. I mean, genuinely nice. No hidden agendas with her. So, I've been roped into helping out with the ticket booth for this goddamn party.

And it's not actually a booth. More like a table with a folding chair just inside the gym entrance. Five bucks per ticket gets you in, all proceeds towards raising money for a big class trip they're planning for Christmas break.

Where to? No idea. Don't care. Not going.

It's Friday night and it was either this or having to watch a craptastic football game at casa de Charlie. So yeah... Lesser of two evils and all that...

"Fuck this!" I say to myself. My head is going to explode if I keep torturing myself listening to this screeching someone calls music. I manage to get the table and chair outside without incident.

_Wow! Look at me! Nothing broke! Ha!_

Peace and quiet. _Aaahhh_.

The sound is now muffled and that stupid fog is minimal. There are a lot of people inside. Being already ten o'clock and this disaster ending at midnight, I'm guessing no one else will show up. I'm not going back in there. I don't mingle.

"Let's get comfortable, shall we?" I swing my legs and prop them on top of the table.

"Hello, Jesus."

Jesus is my phone. It can do anything and everything. Ok, maybe not coffee, but here's to hoping. I surf the web, looking something to entertain myself with.

Settling on playing a Dash game, I get lost to the world. I've played it a million times, but whatever. It numbs my brain until I can get out of here. Just as I'm about to finish a level - with an expert score, thank you very much!... The gym doors slam open.

"Shit!" My fingers are in a frantic dance as Jesus almost falls from my grasp. Out come Mike Newton and his lackeys, howling with laughter and almost tripping on their feet.

_Figures. They're drunk_.

Can't say I blame them. It must be lame-ass boring in there.

Mike finally gets a grip and stands up straight. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he spots me - _Ugh!_ _Disgusting -_ and turns to me with a smirk on his face.

"There you are Bellaaaaa!"

He thinks it sounds sexy or something. It just sound like he's five.

"Why aren't you inside partying it up?" He smiles at me wide-eyed, propping his elbows on the table, his face on his hands. It makes his butt stick out, since apparently his brain can't figure out the position. Or maybe he's trying to look cute. Fucking asshole.

"I'm working, Mike. Why don't you go back in there and tell me all about it Monday morning? I'm sure Jessica is looking for you."

JESSICA SKANKLEY. I mean, Stanley.

"Oh, right. I came here with Jess, didn't I?" he said, with a look of drunken realization in his eyes.

_Yes, loser. You came here with the school skank, a.k.a your girlfriend_.

I'm getting irritated with this guy. He's inching closer and closer to me. I can even smell his breath from across the table. Whiskey, no doubt. Cheap whiskey. He's so close now he's almost straddling the table. I take my feet down from the table and sit up straight.

_Personal space, dude! Fuck off already!_

"Hey, Bells. Let's get outta here. Just the two of us," he says to me and I freeze.

_What the hell?!_

"Whadya say, huh? We could go to the beach," he slurs, moving around the table to get in front of me.

Is he being serious?! I start looking around for his friends. They just left him here! I don't see them anywhere. Maybe they went back in.

_SHIT SHIT SHIT. _

I'm starting to panic because he keeps slowly coming towards me, albeit drunkenly, but still closing in. I get up my chair slowly, feigning aloofness.

_ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE!_

I may be a sarcastic know-it-all in my head but let's be real… Physically, I can't defend myself against Newton. Even drunk, he is much much stronger than me. He's is a jock after all. Likes to exercise and shit. Me…not so much.

I keep looking around while backing up, looking for salvation.

"Mike," I say with a warning tone.

"Uuuuhhhggg. I love it when you say my name," he moans as he tilts his head back.

_The fuck?!_

"Ooookayyyy, you need to step away from me and go find your ska... girlfriend, Mike." I hear my voice trembling a little. I'm starting to hyperventilate and feel the cold sweat on my forehead. I hope he doesn't notice.

_Control yourself bitch!_

I've backed myself to the building's wall.

_That's just great, Bella! _

Well, I've been looking out for him to jump me any minute! Excuse me for not having eyes at the back of my head!

And now I'm internally arguing with myself. That's just….yeah.

There's a look on his face. All humor is gone. "Oh, don't be like that Bells," he whispers, looking straight at me. His eyes look darker. His tone is soft, but feels menacing at the same time.

I square my shoulders. I'm ready, asshole. I may not be able to bring you down. But your pretty-boy face is gonna look like a cat mistook it for a scratching post when this is over.

He's about to take the final step toward me, when the second most beautiful sound in existence is uttered.

" Uuuhhh..."

_YES! SALVATION!_

"Hello. Can we get two tickets, please?" says a girly melodical voice. Mike has stopped on his tracks, eyes wide and... Dare I say, afraid? Poor bastard. Realization dawns on him, of what his intentions were just seconds before. His face drains to pale white.

"Oh! I...ah...shit...I'm sorry, Bella..." he stutters while retreating. Going around the table, he stumbles but is saved from further humiliation by a shaggy blond-haired guy. He grabbed his forearm preventing the fall. "You all right man?" he asks Mike. All the while I'm still standing with my back to the wall.

The girl is looking at me, all smiles and spiky jet black hair. She's beautiful. Like a fairy, right out of a storybook.

_Creepyyyy..._

"Uh, yeah. I'm okay," Mike says to him, standing up straight, still a little wobbly. "Excuse me. I'm...ah...going to see... I mean, I'm looking for..." He's looking around for something, anything.

_Duuuude! Just go!_

His eyes grow wide. "Jessicaaaaa!" Mike yells running through the open doors.

"Son of a bitch!" I whisper to myself, ungluing my back from the door. My hands are all clammy and gross. Damn him! I wipe them on my jeans and walk up to the girl.

"Sorry about that," I mutter because I'm embarrassed. I crouch down picking up the cash box I stowed earlier down there. "Two tickets, yeah?" I ask her while rifling for more goddamn tickets thru all the bills I've thrown in.

"No. Three tickets, if you please."

There it is. That voice. THE VOICE.

I'm frozen. Popsicle frozen. I don't dare look up. It's him. He definitely wants to kill me.

I must look like a train wreck after the Newton incident!

_Why the fuck do you care?! _

Good question...

I look up with a glare and there he is. Dark jeans, black shirt, black leather jacket and probably black boots, 'cause it would be too obvious I'm checking him out if I peek at his footwear from over here.

Sinful. He looks utterly sinful.

"Hi," he says to me while raking his hair with one hand, giving me a sheepish smile.

I just stare. I think my mouth is open.

Think it would be too forward to try and touch his hair without asking permission first?

_Naaahhh..._

_Dude! React! You're staring! Say something! Do something! Breathe at least!_

Fuuuuck!

"Hey."

_That's it?! That's all you got?! _

Shut up!

I just notice his other hand is extended toward me. He's trying to touch me again?

_No dip shit. He's giving you the money... For the tickets?! That you're selling?!_

God, this is Bella. I'm ready whenever you are.

"Oh, yeah. Here you go. Have fun." I take the money and give him the tickets very carefully so there's no contact.

"Thanks! We will!" says the girl tugging the blond one to the gym doors.

_Peppy much?_

"Okay," I mutter following the two of them with my eyes. They disappear thru the double doors and I'm acutely aware THE VOICE is still standing in front of me, making no sign of moving.

Closing the lid of the cash box, I sit down and stow it away in its super secret hidey-hole.

I ain't looking at you buddy, so move it along.

"So." From the corner of my eye I see him fidgeting. "Are you enjoying the party?" he asks. To whom he's talking to, I don't know 'cause I ain't looking up.

Silence is all I give him. I pick up by phone back up and start fighting with the dang cables of the ear buds.

"I said, are you enjoying the party?" he says a little louder and places both hands on MY TABLE. I turn my head and glare at his spread hands. Beautiful long fingers. On my fucking table.

I look up meeting his eyes. Death rays are shooting from my eyes. "Heaps."

"Why aren't you inside then?" he asks standing up straight. I think I scared him a little.

_Aaahh, poor baby._

I look around to see if it isn't obvious enough. "I'm working," I say answering him with a duh expression in my face.

"Oh, right," he says looking down. Is he blushing? Ah shit! I think I embarrassed him. Now I feel bad.

Why do you have to be such an ass, Swan? Poor guy hasn't done anything to you.

_Yet._

Oh my God! Do you ever take a break?! Shut your trap!

Got to stop this internal argument. I probably look certifiable.

"Maybe later," I say in a tone that I hope is not too rude. His head snaps back up and he smiles at me.

"Cool...maybe I'll see you in there," he tells me, backing up toward the doors. I just shrug my shoulders as a response because that smile has left me speechless.

"Okay. Bye, Isabella."

I think I waved back. I can't feel my hands, so I really can't be sure.

A couple of minutes pass until I feel coherent again. I slump back in my chair. I see the mayhem of ear bud cables in my lap and robotically start untangling again.

Suddenly, all the air leaves my lungs in one big whoosh.

He called me Isabella.

* * *

Half an hour later, I'm finally liberated from my "volunteer" work. Angela comes outside with Eric in toe. He is going to take over for me. I guess the "look-at-me-I'm-cool-too" geek didn't have a date for the night. Or maybe he was kissing ass. I'm going with my first guess.

I make my way to the restrooms to wash my hands and splash some water in my face, so I can bolt. I'm not staying, but I don't want to go home.

Where to go, where to go?

_'Cause the night life in Forks is so exciting!_

The restroom is crowded. Too many girls talking excitedly over each other. It's giving me a headache. I make my way out of the mini hell hole and start walking to the exit, when small hands grab my shoulder. I instantly freeze and then try to jerk it away. I turn around and it's the pixie.

"Oh! Sorry. Didn't mean to scare ya," Her eyes wide and searching my face.

"It's okay," I tell her. She doesn't know she can't touch me. I turn to leave, but apparently she wants to keep talking.

"Are you enjoying the party?" she asks.

Second time someone's asked me that tonight. _Why? _

I half turn, so I don't seem too rude. "I'm leaving."

"But, why?" she pouts at me. _Huh?_

I look around, looking for a hidden camera or something. "I'm done at the ticket booth, so..."

She tilts her head to the side and she has this look...she's looking at me like I'm this cryptic puzzle and she just found one of the clues. _Weird pixie._

"Come on! We have a table. Have some punch with us." She goes to grab my hand and I flinch back. Seriously, does she have a death wish? She notices and retracts her hand, but still smiles while waiting for an answer.

"Ah... Nah, that's all right, but thanks." I'm backing away, because I know she's gonna try to touch me again. _I just know it. _She looks sad for a moment, but recovers quickly,

"Oh well, maybe next time."

"Sure. See ya," I say over my shoulder. _Never gonna happen, pixie._

I practically run outside so she can't follow me. I take a deep breath and let it out through my mouth. _Finally. I'm out._

"Too much, huh?"

I gasp and clutch my heart through my shirt. _Shit!_

_"_Shit! You scared me!" I gasp, turning around and looking at HIM.

He chuckles, "Sorry, didn't mean to."

He's leaning back on the left side wall, one knee bent with his boot up on the wall, lighting up a cigarette. _I think I'm gonna pass out. _The flame of the lighter lights up his eyes and they look like amber, the color of honey. _Sweet, delicious honey. _

"It's okay," I whisper, trying to catch my breath.

"Too many people in there. I had to get out," he says, looking me up and down...as if...checking me out_..._

_You wish._

_..._

_Ok, ok. Shutting it._

I nod and/or shake my head as an answer - _I have no idea- _and turn to leave. Because, really, why I'm a standing in front of him anyway?

"Why are you leaving?" he asks.

Seriously! People and their questions.

"I'm done."

"Oh?"

I sigh and answer, "working the ticket booth."

"Ah." He gets it.

I turn around again.

"No date?" he asks.

I stop without turning around. "Nope."

"Ah," is his answer.

_Ah? _

I turn around on the spot. "What do you mean, 'Ah?"'

He shrugs, "Just... curious."

I raise one eyebrow at him and wait for an explanation.

"I find you weird, is al," he says, blowing out the smoke through this lips.

And there it is.

_Well, at least he's honest enough to say it to your face._

Yeah... Can't argue with you on that one.

The look I give him probably comes off as if I'm narrowing my eyes at him. He must think I'm angry at his comment. Not at all, actually. My eyes are flinching.

"Yes. Weird," I answer, and start walking to my truck.

You know that little sting you feel at the pit of your insides... hollow and yet, all consuming... yeah... It takes a little of your breath away.

Because it's one thing to accept all on your own that you're different from the rest- not a normal, complete, accepted, visible, noticed human being.

Weird.

Yet, it's a whole other ballgame when it's thrown in your face.

And casually, at that.

It just fucking stings.


	4. Grape Juice

**Chapter 4: Grape Juice**

_**Bella**_

The rest of the weekend was the same old shit. I cleaned the house, got the laundry done, cooked for Charlie, did my homework, and slept like a mother fucker.

I love sleeping during the daylight hours. I could sleep all day long. I like to stay awake at night. No one's around needing you to do something for them. It's awesome.

It's blissful.

It's quiet.

I'm mostly alone all weekend. Charlie goes fishing at the break of dawn on Saturdays and sometimes stays away until Sunday afternoon. He says he stays at Billy's house. I think he stays at Sue Clearwater's. Why he lies to me, I don't know. Its not that I mind being alone. He knows I like it that way. He has tried many-a-times to get me go fishing with him. I just ignore him when he asks. He knows the answer will always be "Do you want to fish or do you want me to scare the fish away like last time?"

Even the fish don't like me around. Figures.

School on Monday is the same as every other Monday. At lunch, everyone is sharing their weekend activities; Lauren gave a blow job at the 'Party from Hell' to some senior jock - she thinks she's the _shit_ or something - _yeah, or something_; Jessica is detailing how Mike gave her the _perfect_ evening that night - _I'm zoning out on that one_; Eric is talking about some sci fi movie he went to see in Port Angeles - _now everyone is zoning out for that one. _And here I sit, feigning attention and staying quiet. I've got nothing to contribute.

Although Angela - _God bless her for trying -_ asks me about my weekend. Now, I could lie through my teeth and say something like I went on a shopping spree in Port Angeles... and found the cutest pink blouse I've ever seen... On sale!... With my Dad's credit card... Or I could just tell them about the epic battle I had Saturday with Charlie's stinky socks... They almost sucked the life out of me when I got them out of his hamper... _The smell still lingers on my nose..._

"Nothing much. Just hung around the house. How about you?" I shrug my answer to her and divert her attention from me. She looks at me with concern for a second and as she starts telling me about her picnic with Boyfriend Ben.

_That's my name for him: Boyfriend Ben; I like to tease him with it._

"I don't get you, Bella." Lauren interrupts.

_Esqueeze me?_

"You practically live alone on the weekends and you don't take advantage of it."

Here we go. Lauren's little nuggets of wisdom.

_Brought to you by Forks High lunch period: 'Because you can't never get enough during your classes, come on over our table and she'll torture you some more'._

_Now with a side of mystery meat. Free!_

I just look at her general direction so she thinks I'm paying attention. "I'm just saying. If I got the house all to myself on weekends... Wow! The parties would be out of this world!"

We have another contributor to this little 'Let's make Bella cool' tirade. Tyler adds,

"Oh man! Totally epic parties! Bella, you could totally do that! We bring all the booze and shit. We'll even clean up afterwards. You just put up your house and we'll take care of the rest. Come on! You'll be cooler and more popular than... than..." he trails off.

_Oh oh. He's thinking. He's going to burn the last brain cell he has up there. Better save it or he won't be able to remember how to roll his joint later._

"Guys, you seem to forget who my father is," I throw at them.

Silence.

"Charlie?"

Nothing. I think I can hear the leaky faucet from the second floor girl's bathroom from here.

I sigh, exasperated, "Chief of p-o-l-i-c-e?"

"Aaaah, right, right." Everyone is murmuring and shaking their heads like they've figured the answer to this morning's trig question.

"That's right! That's why we've never gone to your house to party. I forgot," Tyler chuckles weakly.

_Ass._

I better get out of here before I start thinking out loud. "I'm out, guys. Gotta return a book. Catch you later."

I pick up my bag and the food tray and head to the trash bin closest to the doors. Why do I waste money on cafeteria food is beyond me. I never eat it, but I guess because it's what is expected of me to do. I could always bring food from home. I always cook for Charlie, so how much work would it be to make a little bit more?

But that would be more unnecessary effort on my part to fit in and I just really don't give a shit. I won't eat it anyway. I empty the tray and throw it on the bin. As I'm about to turn around, I hear it.

"Go long, Eddie!"

Everything is in slow motion now.

_Of course it is; so the pain and anguish can last a little longer. _

"Fuck, Emmet! Don't call me that!" I swear to God he hisses it right by my ear. But I can't really confirms this because right as I'm about to fully turn around, a football comes flying through the air, landing square in the middle of Edward's food tray. Said food tray is conveniently propped in such a way that when the ball lands, the opened bottle of grape juice spills directly on the left side of my shirt.

Because, OF COURSE, this would happen to me. In front of HIM, no less.

"Fuuuuck, that's cold!" I whisper, frozen in place. I don't need to draw more attention to this mess by swearing out loud. I look up. I cannot believe this. I'm about to slap a bitch, because FUCKING HELL this was my favorite t-shirt! It's a Pearl Jam vintage tee I got on a trip to Seattle a couple of years back. I love this shirt; it's white, but is so worn it's kind of see through, so I always wear a tank top underneath. It's sooo soft.

And now it's fucking ruined. Who the fuck drinks grape juice anymore?! In high school?!

I look up and I would have totally been laughing at the situation if it wasn't happening to me. His face is priceless. Pale as a ghost and mortified beyond belief. But I'm so mad I don't care if he's the second coming of Jesus: he ruined my favorite shirt, dammit!

"I'm so sorry, Bella... It's Emmet's fault! ... He threw the ball and I couldn't get it... 'cause you know, I was holding the tray..." he's stammering.

Fuck, he's cute!

_What? Cute? Keep it the fuck together!_

"It's okay. No worries," I need to get out of here because I'm staring at those lips even when they aren't moving, and nothing good can come out of that. I turn around and hurry to the door. I can hear the whispers and laughter. Don't give a shit, remember?

_My shirt my shirt my shirt. _

I make it to the bathroom, take the shirt off and it's straight to the sink. "No no no no no!" Not the shirt! Please! Not this shirt!

_It's the only thing left. It's all I've got. _

Under the faucet it goes. With some soap from the dispenser, I try to furiously scrub the stain out, but it's no use. "Shit shit shit!"

"**_Hey Mom! Look at this one!"_**

**_"Let me see it. Pearl Jam?... What is that?" _**

**_"What is... Wha... Pearl Jam is one of the best bands of all time! How can you not know that, Mother?!"_**

**_"All right, all right! Settle down! Jeez... Give your old mamma a break will ya?"_**

**_"Can I have it, please?"_**

**_"But it looks all worn out, Bells. It looks old."_**

**_"That's the beauty of it, Ma! It's vintage!"_**

**_"It's used."_**

**_"It's got character."_**

**_"It's been sweated on!"_**

**_"It's eight bucks!"_**

**_"Okay, okay!"_**

**_"Best Mamma Ever!"_**

A hand on my shoulder brings me back to the present.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I'm crouched down on the floor. Clutching the shirt to my chest. My face is wet. I've been crying.

I look at it. Yep. Totally ruined.

"A little bit of bleach will probably get that stain right out."

_Did I say that out loud? Who's taking?_

"Thank God its white, right?!"

I turn around and find the crazy pixie from the party looking at me. She's smiling, but it's forced. I can tell. I'm a master at that smile. Her eyes are concerned. Not pitiful, thank God.

_She probably saw your meltdown, genius! I mean, how long has she been standing there?!_

"How long have you been standing there?!" I blurt out desperately.

_Hello, filter? Where are you?_

"Oh," she hesitates. _Yeppers. She saw it all._ "I... I just got here. I mean, I saw what happened back... you know, there... But still..."

She doesn't know when to stop.

"You can get it out... with a little bleach..." she tries to smile again. It comes out like a grimace. She takes a step towards me.

I stand up and wipe my face. This is getting beyond awkward and the bell will ring soon.

"It's okay. No worries." I put on my hoodie and get my backpack off the floor. One last look at it and I throw it in the trash.

"You're gonna toss it?!" the pixie gapes at me.

_What's her problem? To her, it's just a shirt. _

_To me, it should be just a shirt. _

"It's ruined," I tell her.

"But you can fix it!" she snaps at me.

_It's she getting angry at me? What the hell, Pix?!_

"It's just a stupid shirt." I leave the bathroom.

I'm shaking all over. I'm nauseous. Some things should never be remembered.

The bell rings. Shit! Now I'm late. As I get to Biology, some asshole closes the door in my face. Awesome. I'm about to yank it back open when through the door's glass opening, I see it.

Copper hair. Long, beautiful fingers combing through it.

He's here. At MY FUCKING BIOLOGY CLASS!

And of course, he's sitting at MY TABLE.

I'm the only one without a partner.

_Well, not anymore!_

I can't do this. I can't keep bumping into him! Literally!

This is ridiculous!

I can't think around him!

I take deep breaths.

_In and out. In and out. _

No. I HAVE to get in there. I can't fail a class just because he's there.

I can do this. I can do this.

I will do this.

It's gonna be okay. He's just another guy.

Who cares. Same as all the rest, right?

_He thinks you're weird, remember?_

I'm going to throw up.

_Of course he does. He can _see _you. He can see right through you. _

I'm done for the day. I pass Ms. Cope on the way to my truck and tell her I'm too sick to stay. Really don't care if she believes me or not. I just keep walking.

I get home and park the truck. Charlie's not home. That's good, no interrogation. I climb up the stairs and shut the door to my room with my foot. Toe my shoes off and my jeans. Put on my pajama bottoms. The hoodie stays on. I climb onto the bed. My head is killing me.

I have to stop thinking. Need to sleep.

Hard _sucked-ass_ day.

Tomorrow will be better.

* * *

I open my eyes. It's still dark out. I think I hear the TV downstairs.

He got home okay, then.

Did he check up on me? Can't remember if I heard him come into my room.

Maybe.

Probably not.

* * *

The closing of the front door startles me awake. It's daylight. I can hear the cruiser creeping out the driveway.

I close my eyes. I'm staying put today.

* * *

My throat is dry. And I gotta pee. I don't want to move.

I'm so comfortable.

I wonder what time it is.

* * *

Stayed awake all night. Just looking out the window. The rain was falling hard.

Charlie didn't check up on me.

* * *

I'm buried under the covers. I like it down here. I wonder what day it is.

The ringing of the house phone wakes me up a couple of times throughout the day.

Nobody is home, people! Stop calling.

* * *

I hear the front door. Charlie answers. I hear it close again.

I wonder where he's been eating.

Maybe at the diner.

* * *

It's night again.

Footsteps on the stairs. Two pairs. That's odd.

There's knocking on my door. That's odd, too. Charlie never checks on me.

"Hey, Bells? You decent?"

_Yes, I'm fine, Father Dear. And you?_

"Yeah."

I hope he hears me because I don't like repeating myself. The door creaks open and he's talking with his torso half-inside my room.

"You okay?"

I wonder what day is today?

"Yeah."

"Um...okay, well..." he murmurs. "You have a visitor."

_What did he say? Visitor? Can't he see I'm not available for visitors?!_

"Come on in, Doc. She's a little indisposed at the moment."

_Doc?_

I unearth my head from my cozy cave of blankets to look at the person who's crazy enough to come here and interrupt my sabbatical.

Blue eyes and blonde, silky combed-back hair come to view. He stops at the foot of my bed and appraises the mess that is me.

"Hello, Bella. My name is Dr. Cullen."

_Uuuuuuuhhhhhh….WHAT!_


	5. An apple a day

**Chapter 5: An apple a day...**

A/N: First of all, I don't own; past, present or future. And second, thank you Phoebe44.

* * *

_**Bella**_

He doesn't fit in my bedroom. He doesn't fit in this house. Do all of them look like that!?

I mean, seriously... Still in jeans and a button down pale blue shirt, Dr. Cullen looks like I made a life-size cutout of a magazine model and planted it right in front of my bed.

He's looking at me, all soft and concerned. _What's that all about?_

"Hello, Bella. I heard you were a little under the weather."

"I'm fine, sir."

He smiles at me a little. He's still looking. Analyzing.

"Alice tells me you missed a couple of days of school. She has been worried."

He must understand my confused look, because he quickly explains. "Alice is my daughter."

Still no clue. I tilt my head to the side and think. "Alice?"

He chuckles under his breath. "Short, spiky black hair, too much energy..."

_Oh! _

"Oh! You mean Pixie girl!"

He starts laughing... out loud, because I said that... out loud.

_Oh Dear God! Give me my filter back!_

"Yeah. I guess you could say she looks like a pixie," he says at last. "She told me that I had to come and give her friend a check up, because she felt you were sick."

"Felt I was sick?" _Pixie is so weird._

"I know, I know," he sighs, "She's a little weird."

_Gulp. Mindreader?_

"May I?" he motions to the foot of the bed. I nod, and he sits.

"But her heart is in the right place." He levels his gaze at me then. "So, how are you feeling?"

I can't look him in the eye, so I find the duvet's pattern totally interesting. "I'm okay now, sir. Really. Just wasn't feeling all there and decided to stay home. You know, in case it was contagious or something," I mutter...and lie.

_What else am I going to tell him? Didn't really give a frack about school and life in general, so I decided to take a little vacation?_

_...yes._

Oh shut it!

"Mmmmmh," he nods. Comprehension on his face. "Any fever, nausea, dizziness?"

"N-no, sir," I stammer.

"Well then, may I do a routine check up of your lungs, heart and head? Since I'm already here…" he smiles at me. And I die of embarrassment because he came all this way at night for nothing. I mean I have no idea where in town they live but still… It must be after 9:00 p.m.

Lungs are clear. Heart sounds fine. Ears and throat are fine.

"And you're feeling better now?" he nods and grins at me.

Can't lie to him anymore, can I? He's a doctor, after all?

"I guess." Dammit all!

"Listen, Bella. We've just met and I can see that it's a little difficult for you to... open up... to others."

_Maybe,__ a spy._

"But if there's anything you need, any questions, someone to talk to..."

_Is he for real?!_

"You can call, anytime." He hands me a card. It has a lot of phone numbers on it. He stands up and walks to the door.

"Um... okay, sir. Thank you," I say, still looking at the card. I'm so embarrassed. He came all the way for nothing. For nothing! Poor man is probably exhausted from working all day and was roped to coming here. I'm going to kill that Pixie!

"Carlisle, please."

I look up. He's smiling again.

"Thank you, Carlisle," I whisper. I think I'm gonna pass out.

Still feeling so embarrassed thirty minutes later I decide that tomorrow at school, I'll look out for the Pixie called Alice, thank her and then proceed to tell her to shove it.

And then I realized something. He's Dr. Carlisle Cullen.

Father of Pain in my ass Edward Cullen.

And the pixie is his sister!

Can someone die from mortification, I wonder…


	6. Because they worry

**Chapter 6: Because they worry...**

_**Bella**_

Friday rolls around and I'm back at school. Stayed home yesterday too. Got out of bed around three in the afternoon and made dinner. I'm not feeling that much better, but Charlie doesn't want me in the house. He didn't say it out loud, but asked me a couple of times last night if I was ready for school tomorrow.

He knows I'm not up for it, and still... Whatever.

I get it Charlie. Don't worry.

It's your day off. I'll leave you alone.

Some coffee would be nice. Already had two cups at home, but my eyes are still heavy.

I'm at my locker, thinking I could probs get a coffee maker in here, when I feel it. He's behind me. I can feel his stare.

Kind of creepy.

A hello would be nice. I turn around and the pixie is with him.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in bed, resting?" he asks, brows furrowed, annoyance on his face.

"Well, hello to you, too." Apparently, I'm sassy today. Or maybe it's just with him. He makes me anxious, I don't know why.

_Yes, yes you do._

Shut up!

"How are you feeling today, Bella?" Pixie speaks.

"Fine, thanks," I mumble. "Um... Thank you for getting your dad to come and see me. You didn't have to do that."

"That's okay. We were worried, so..." she trails off looking sideways at him. He's still frowning looking down at my feet. At my old ratty Converse. What's wrong with him?

"Yeah... um, can you tell him to send us the bill, or I can swing by the hospital? I don't know what's more convenient for him...", I say and shrug at her.

Head snaps up. "What?!" He interrupts me. More frowning. That has to hurt at some time. Poor pretty eyebrows.

I'm getting snappy. I can't help it with him.

_Reel it in, Swan. _

"Uh, I mean, I have a little money saved up. I don't know how much it's gonna be... If I could pay him little by little it would be easier..."

This is so embarrassing. Why am I discussing this with them?

"You don't have to pay him!" he scoffs, glaring.

I try not to glare back.

I don't think I'm successful.

"What are you, his boss?" I snap.

Kind of stupid, this one. Of course I have to pay him.

He came to my house. At night. I should pay him double. There goes all my savings.

Thank you, douchebag for getting your dad to house-visit and consequently make me go broke.

"You don't have to pay him, Bella. He went to check on you because we asked him to," says Pix. "We were kind of worried when you didn't show up." Her eyes dart to him when she says "we". He's still looking at me. I'm looking past Pix.

They know I can't pay. Is it that obvious? Maybe it's my clothes... Theirs always seem so... subtly expensive-looking. I'm embarrassed again. And getting mad because of it.

"I owe you, then." I look down at my shoes again. I need new ones. Maybe for Christmas.

"Don't be silly. It's what friends are for."

_Who's friend?_

"Friends look out for each other, right?"

I don't understand where Pix is coming up with this shit. I guess he doesn't understand it either 'cause he's frowning at her now.

First bell. Saved by the bell. "Ok, well. See ya," I mumble, closing my locker and head for first period. I don't wait for a response. I know they're still watching me as I walk away.

I hate owing people. More ties to this place. Not knowing when they're gonna try and collect.

It's always at the most inappropriate moment.

* * *

Lunch period. Guh! I can't keep avoiding my 'friends'... I've been successful all morning.

"Hey guys." I salute the table while sitting beside Angela. Couple of hi's, couple of nods. The guys are rowdy today. Sounds like they're planning a trip to the beach.

"How are you feeling?" I meet Angela's worried face. She's... so nice. To everyone. So I don't suspect anything of her. Guaranteed sainthood for that one.

"I'm good. How are you?"

She's going to ask for details I don't want to give. Need to distract her.

"I'm fine. You had the flu or something?" she asks looking at my face. I guess she's looking for flu-like symptoms or disease-ridden consequences.

"Nah. Just a little cold, I guess. How are the twins?"

Ang has two-year old twin siblings; brother and sister. They are two gorgeous spitfires.

"Oh my God! You won't believe what they did last night!"

_Mission accomplished._

* * *

Last bell. Finally. This has been an ass of a Friday.

_When are Fridays good?_

_You have a point. _

_Well, they should be, right? End of the week and all of that..._

I don't bother to go to my locker. I have everything I need for tonight's homework in my bag. Biology was a drag. Had to sit beside him. He said hey" when he arrived to take his seat. I said "hey" back. That's it. Hid behind my hair the rest of the class. I think I felt him looking my way, but can't be sure. Wall of hair dividing us.

Ran out of there, without tripping I might add, when the bell rang.

_Good job. _

_Why, thank you!_

I'm almost to my truck when I hear my name being called. Oh God! I just want to get home!

_Ignore it and it will go away._

I keep walking. I hear it again. I need an invisibility cloak.

"Bella! Please, wait!"

Fuck my life, it's Edward!

I stop. My truck is right there! Make a run for it?

_Don't be rude, now. _

Shut your pie hole!

I half turn. "Yeah?" and he's standing there. Maybe ten feet away from me. He's panting a little. Did he run all the way to me?

"Hey. I...um… wanted... Wait. Give me a minute." And he bends down a little at the waist, hands to his sides. He takes a couple lung-fulls of air, his chest expanding and contracting... And I have to look somewhere else.

"Sorry. I'm little bit out of shape," he says and chuckles.

"It's okay. No worries."

_I'm always saying that! I should have it tattooed on my forehead. _

"You're always saying that."

_Is mindreading __hereditary?_

I'm a little shocked, so I just shrug.

He chuckles again. I love how it sounds.

_NO! Just... no._

"Listen, I just wanted to tell you that I have the bio notes from the couple of days you missed. If you want them, you know, I can lend them to you."

_Um... Thank you?_

"Uh... Thanks."

"Yeah. So I'll get them for you tomorrow?" he asks.

"I'll just photocopy them in the library and get them back to you as soon as possible."

"Oh. There's no rush."

"Okay. Thanks. Again."

"Sure."

"Okay."

"Okay." His left hand goes right go the back of his neck. Rubbing it. Why is he nervous? Probably uncomfortable.

This is getting awkward. "So... I'll see ya."

"Yeah."

"Bye."

"Okay. Bye"

Just start walking, Swan. I make it to my truck and am about to pull the door handle when…

"Bella..."

I almost jump out of my skin and turn around. He's right behind me. Not even a foot between us.

"Shit, you scared me." My back is glued to my backpack that in turn is plastered to the truck's door. My eyes are almost bugging out.

"Sorry." He takes a step away and looks down. Only one step away.

_Dude! Personal space! Do you know what it is?_

"Look, there was something else I wanted to say back there."

He's really close.

"Okay" It comes out more like a question.

"Yeah. Um..." His hand is back on his neck again.

"I'm sorry about this morning," he says, looking at me through his eyelashes.

"Okay?"

"I didn't mean to make you mad or anything."

"Okay?" He's holding my gaze with his head down, like he's ashamed or something.

"I was... I mean, we were worried about you. And none of your friends knew anything!" He spats out the word 'friend'.

"Okay?"

_Seriously! You do know more than just one word. _

_But he's sooo close. I can smell him. How can I think when he smells so gooood!_

_Try. _

"Uh... Thanks for...uh..."

I look down because I can't finish this sentence looking him in the eyes.

"...for worrying... about my health."

_Gulp. _

_Yes I know. Mortifying doesn't even BEGIN to cover it. _

I hear him chuckle.

"It's okay. No worries."

I try to hold it in, but still a tiny gasp escapes my mouth. I look up and he's smiling at me, head a little to the side.

_Glorious!_

"I'll let you go now, Bella. See ya." He starts walking away. Backwards.

"Okay... I mean... bye."

With shaky hands I open the door to my truck. I sling over my backpack and fill up my lung because it feels like I haven't breathed in forever.

"Oh, hey!" he yells.

My ass is half hanging outside of my truck.

_Jesus H. Christ! What's it now?!_

I don't say anything. Just look up in his direction.

He says, "Banner assigned the midterm projects last Monday."

_Oh no. _

He smiles wide. And then, "See you tomorrow, partner." He turns and jogs back.

Fuck. My. Life.

Wait... he said tomorrow?


	7. The frakking fish

**Chapter 7: The frakking fish...**

**_Bella_**

It's Wednesday. I'm making dinner.

Fish. I hate fish.

"Dad!"

"Yeah, Bells?" he answers from his recliner. He's watching some game. He's always watching some game.

"Dinner's ready."

On Wednesdays, my dad gets home at six. He usually takes off his boots and his gun belt by the door.

"Coming."

Walking to the living room, he takes off his button down, always flings it to the couch leaving his white undershirt on and plops on his recliner while yelling 'I'm home, Bells. Get me a beer, will ya?'

"What are we having?"

He never sees me standing beside him already, beer in hand. It's always the same. I never wait for him to ask. Every time I hear him getting through the door, I walk to the fridge and get his beer. And least he's polite. He always mumbles his thanks.

"Fish and salad."

He pouts. I roll my eyes.

"And baked potato and corn on the cob."

He grins down at the table as he sits down.

Our dinning/dingy kitchen table only has two chairs. It used to have three when I was little. I came home one day from a sleepover at Angela's and found the third chair missing, a roaring fire in our rarely used fireplace, and Charlie passed out drunk in his recliner. He was supposed to have picked me up hours ago. I was ten.

That was Mom's chair.

I serve the food and sit down with him. The perfunctory questions are asked. How's school? How's work? How are my grades coming along? How's the fishing going?

And that's it. We have nothing else to talk about. We eat in silence. I know he's listening to the game from here. He eats with this intense far away look on his face. Squinty eyes, looking to the left. Must be an important game.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?" His expression doesn't change.

"Um, I got assigned a project for Biology."

"Yeah."

"It's a group project."

"Uh huh."

"Well, actually I have a partner."

Nothing. I sigh.

"So, there's probably gonna be some studying going on at his house or here."

"His house?" he starts and looks at me.

_Oh. That got your attention?_

"Who's he and what are you doing at his house?"

I _almost_ roll my eyes at him. Really, Charlie? Now you're going all protective papa bear on me? Ridiculous.

"He is a student at school and my biology lab partner."

He just stares at me, waiting for me to continue. If he would have just listened to me instead of the stupid game...

"So?"

"So what?" I'm being dense with him. I don't care. He should've been paying attention.

"Bella." Oh. Now he's glaring at me. I'm soooo scared, Charlie. Pffft!

"As I said_ earlier..." _I emphasize the _earlier_ because he doesn't get to do the glare thing to me.

His posture softens up a little. He knows he wasn't listening to a word I said before. He knows I know.

"We have a group project, so we may be working here or at his house. Just so you know, if you see another car on the driveway while you're patrolling and stuff."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

He looks pensive now.

He looks uncomfortable.

I know what's probably coming.

"You shouldn't be home alone with a boy."

_Bingo!_

It's my turn to glare at him. But remain silent.

"What will the neighbors think?"

_Yahtzee!_

Glare still on. Now, I cross my arms in front of my chest.

He knows we're going to be studying. He doesn't have the right to doubt me. I've never done ANYTHING in my life to warrant this. Besides, I'll probably be defrosting some fucking fish for when he gets home.

That's why I'm here for, right? Cook his food, do his laundry, clear his empty beer cans from around the recliner...

"Well..." I stare at the ceiling. "You can go to school and tell my teacher that you don't want me to do this assignment. If it bothers you so much what the neighbors will think..."

He sighs and runs his hand around his face. He looks so tired and defeated. "Don't get snarky with me, Bells. And why go to his house?"

"He has a better computer than me. We have to look for the information and type it down and such."

I'm guessing here. But my laptop is so ancient, he's got to have a better one.

Stupid rich people.

His shoulder sag. "Okay. Whatever." He's officially bored with the subject of discussion.

"Just try not to stay out to late."

When have I ever.

"Sure."

I'm already up collecting the plates. He stands and turns towards the living room. Beer in hand.

"Oh. You didn't tell me..." he says, slowly turning around.

_You didn't ask, Charlie._

"Who's your partner, anyways?"

My hands are already wet with the dishwater. I don't turn around.

"Edward Cullen."

Silence.

"The new doc's kid?"

"Yeah."

Another bout of silence.

"Doc's good people."

I shrug my shoulders. Dishwater is so interesting. All those little bubbles.

"Okay. I'm gonna go watch the game."

"Sure. I'm gonna head upstairs when I'm finished here."

"Okay. Night, Bells."

"Night, Dad."

_Thank you for dinner, Bells. It was delicious. _

_Oh! Why thanks, Charlie. You're so very welcome!_

Humph!

'Doc's good people.' What the hell does he know!

Stupid rich, care giving people! And for free!

As I said.

Stupid.


	8. Second-hand embarassment

**Chapter 8: Second-hand embarrassment**

_**Bella**_

So I'm here sitting in my truck. In front of Edward Cullen's house. It's big. It's white. Three stories. With a wrap-around porch.

_I've always wanted a wrap-around porch. _

It's beautiful.

It's surrounded by trees and I bet the river flows right through the back.

_Some people have all the luck. _

I can picture myself sitting on that porch swing for hours on end.

_Ooooh! Maybe there's one in the back... Overlooking the river. _

Yeeeeahhh. Much better.

A loud knock on the driver's side window startles me from my daydreaming.

"Fuuuuck!" I yell and clutch my chest.

Edward is outside my door. Hands in the air, as in surrender.

"Sorry! I'm sorry!" He's trying not to laugh. But he's failing.

He opens my door.

"I'm so sorry, Bella. I didn't mean to scare you."

His eyes are laughing at me.

"I thought you saw me coming from the front door."

I look up and yep, the front door is wide open.

_That was some daydream..._

I look back at him, still clutching my chest.

My heart is almost out my throat.

"No, I didn't see you."

"But..." he cocks his head to the side and frowns a little. "You were looking my way..." he smirks.

I'm starting to get irritated. I didn't want to come here. But I didn't want him at my house.

He called last night just as I was finishing the dishes. No idea how he got my phone number. Yellow pages he said. I don't believe him. Who the hell uses the Yellow Pages anymore?!

I knew his house was gonna be epic. Mine was probably going to be found lacking by

him. And embarrassing to me. I haven't cleaned this week. An even spotless, my house would be look like a shack compared to this.

He's still waiting for an answer.

My hands go to my hair. "Ow!"

He steps closer. "You okay?"

I wince a little. My left temple smarts a bit.

"You hit your head when you jumped.. I mean..."

"I'm fine!" I snap.

I don't remember hitting my head.

_But obviously you did, jackass. _

"Let me see,." he says coming closer and raising his right hand toward my head.

He's almost inside my dance space. I jerk back.

"I'm fine! It's fine, Edward!" I snap, almost-panic lacing my words.

"Okay. Okay." He backs out. And sighs, like he gives up. He looks up, and then everywhere but me. There is frustration and a little bit of anger in his stance.

And now, I'm mortified. Because I'm pretty sure I've cemented my freak status with this guy. He just wanted to see if I was okay, nothing else. And what do I do? I start to panic like he's going to attack me.

_You have problems__, lady._

I know.

_But he doesn't have to know. So get it the fuck together, Swan!_

So taking a deep breath I say, "I'm sorry, Edward."

He's still looks the other way.

I put my feet outside and close the driver's side door.

He's still mute.

"Look. I'm sorry, but you just can't touch me-"

But suddenly, he looks straight at me and cuts me off.

"You're fine, right?" he almost barks at me.

His nostrils are flaring.

He _is_ angry! I don't know why but I find it... amusing.

I know my eyes are bulging but I can't help it. I just nod.

He closes his eyes, inhales really really deep and then slowly exhales.

Trying to calm himself.

"Ok. Let's go in, then." He starts walking. I just follow him.

If the outside of the house is beautiful, the inside is just...

There are no words.

It's big but cozy at the same time. The interior design of this house must have cost a fortune.

"Not really. Mom decorated," he says over his shoulder.

I stop on my tracks. Fuck! Did I say that out loud?

"Yeah, you did." He keeps walking to a dinning room where his laptop is all set up.

I press my lips together because apparently my brain-to-filter connection was severed when I bumped my head.

Big ass dinning table. Eight chairs.

_Figures. _

"So. Let's just get started, yeah?" He plops on one of the chairs. I sit two chairs away.

So that's what we did. We researched. We wrote stuff down. We argued a little about the topic because frankly, I thought it was stupid. But since I wasn't at school the day he picked it and Banner approved it, I couldn't really bitch about it. His words, not mine.

After two hours, we had it outlined and the parts we would work on individually divided up, so it was time for me to skedaddle.

"Okay. So I'll work on this tonight and tomorrow and will let you see it on Monday," I say as I pack up my crap.

"Oh. You're leaving?" He says as he snaps his head back up from his laptop. He's had his eyes buried in that computer for the last two hours. Even when we were arguing he wouldn't look away from it. I mean, I don't usually seek eye contact, but come on! It was a heated discussion!

Finally, I zip up my bag and sling it on my shoulder. "Yeah. I gotta go. Places to go, people to see, you know." I shrug that last part.

I have nowhere to go. Or people to see, really. I've just had too much of Edward Cullen for the day. This situation makes me nervous. Anxious. Two hours of it and I'm exhausted.

I may need a nap.

_You don't nap, you retard!_

I know, I know. Inward sigh. Inside _me_ is bitchy today.

The scraping of his chair as he stands up brings me back to my outside reality. "Oh. Um, sure. I was just going to invite you to dinner but if you had plans already..."

He must have correctly interpreted the shocked panic on my face because he backtracks immediately. "I mean, Mom will be home soon. Friday is usually Pizza night, so..."

Hand in his hair. The other one in his pocket. He looks... kind of embarrassed. Or nervous. I don't know. He's not looking at me. At the floor, actually. Maybe at my shoes.

"I mean, don't think I was asking you out or anything! It's just... You're here and we're eating soon and you're probably hungry..." He's ranting.

If he keeps tugging on that hair...So help me God...

_You and me both..._

It finally dawns on me. He probably thinks that I thought he was asking me out. That's why he is all nervous and shit. Probably thought I was gonna jump up and down squealing like a ... Like a...

I have no idea. I've never jumped up and down. Or squealed.

"That's okay. I get it. And I'm not hungry, so no worries."

Not anymore. My stomach ate itself.

Didn't even offer me a glass of water in the whole two hours I was here.

_Prick. _

Yep.

I head for the door. He follows me. Then stops and I hear a little gasp.

"Shit, Bella! I didn't even offer you something to drink!"

Now both his hands are on that hair. He's gonna be bald by the time graduation comes around, with the way his going at it.

"It's okay. No worries."

He huffs and rolls his eyes at me. "You keep saying that."

_What__? It's true!_

I shrug. "I have to go make Charlie dinner. I'll eat in a little bit."

It's Friday night. Charlie has Fridays off. He stays home doing God knows what all day and then goes out at six or seven at night. He stays at La Push for early morning fishing. He stays away until Sunday evening, most weekends. He says he likes the peace and quiet of fishing. He loves being with his friends at the Reservation. He works all week long. Double shifts, most days.

He gets to have some fun in his life. Who am I to argue with that?

"Well, okay then." His shoulders slump. "Sorry for my bad manners, though. I got caught up in all the research and stuff and just forgot..."

Forgot what? That human beings get thirsty?

I'm getting second-hand embarrassed here. Gotta stop him before this gets any worse.

I open the front door, stepping out. "It's okay, Edwa-"

"No!"

Huh?

"Stop what you're gonna say. If you say AGAIN that it's okay and for me not to worry, I'm gonna yank my hair out!"

_Well. At least he recognizes he has a problem__. _

"Oka... All right, then."

I stare blankly at him.

He stares. Frustrated.

"Bye. See you Monday," I say turning around and gun it toward my truck.

I think I hear him sigh. "Bye, Isabella."

I stumble for a moment but keep vertical.

_Sigh. Love it when he says our name._

You and me both, sister. You and me, both.


	9. Just Bella

**Chapter 9: Just Bella**

_**Bella**_

So I arrived home a little before sunset. I drove at the speed limit. I really didn't have anyone or anything waiting for me at home. Or so I thought.

I should have stayed at the Cullen's for dinner.

My Dad's cruiser was parked in the driveway.

Huh. He should in my La Push by now. Weird.

Oh God! He's probably gonna try and convince me to go with him.

As I said it before: me and fish... Is a no-go.

And then, there's Jacob.

He's an okay guy. He's even funny sometimes. But he doesn't get a hint.

When I said "Sorry, Jacob. I don't date.", I meant "Sorry, Jacob. I DON'T DATE!"

Up the porch steps and I can already hear him yelling. That can only mean one thing.

Mommy dearest is on the phone.

I don't know why he picks up. We have caller ID for fuck's sake! He could save himself all of the exasperation.

So. This is how this all goes down:

I start by opening the door.

"Look, Renee. I'm not asking for much here! Just for you to motherfucking give a fuck!"

He's yelling so loud, he doesn't hear me come in.

_Oh, Charlie! What will the neighbors think!_

He's pacing the living room. She has her on speaker.

"Charles Swan! Do not talk to me that way! What the hell is wrong with you? You sound like a desperate man. She's just a teenage girl. What trouble can she give you? It's just Bella!"

Yep. To my mother, I'm 'just Bella.'

"Yes, Renee. I'm desperate! I need help here! There is something wrong with her," he says. Runs a hand through his hair and then his face. Defeated. Exhausted.

She sighs."Well, what is wrong with her?" She sounds bored already.

Yes, Father. What is wrong with me?

He groans out. "I don't know. She looks fine. But I know there's something. She doesn't go out. She doesn't have any real friends. I mean, none come by the house! She wakes up, goes to school, comes backs, cooks me dinner, studies, and then goes to her room. Everyday, the same routine! Don't you think that's weird?"

I don't see the problem in that. Do you see the problem in that?

_No. No, I don't. That's every father's dream! A daughter who doesn't give him trouble. Right?_

Right.

"I don't know, Charles. But that's sounds like a good little cop's daughter. I would think you'd be happy!" she sneers.

Eye rolling, commence!

"But she should at least have a social life...or something! She needs to talk to someone, Renee. And I don't think it should be me! Talk to her. See if she opens up to you."

"Ha! Funny, Charles! You're hilarious! Why would I do that?"

"She's your daughter for God's sake! Show a little motherly love! You call her all the time to bitch and moan about your crap!"

She gasps.

"Listen! I don't care if she's my daughter-"

Now is Charlie's and my turn to gasp.

Fuck! That hurt. Right in the middle of my chest.

"I don't have time for this, for her. I have a life! I can't take on no one else's problems! I have enough of them!" she yells through the phone.

"Renee, please. Don't say that. She's yours just as much as she is mine. You love her!"

"No! Just stop it. I left her with you! You wanted her! I didn't! Remember that, Charles! Don't try to weasel her out to me now!"

I think my heart is coming out of my eyes. My bag falls to the hardwood floor. This he hears. He turns around. Huh. I think his eyes are going to pop out too.

"Bella," he breaths out my name.

"Shh!" I shake my head at him. I want to hear the rest.

He looks at the phone and then at me. I don't know how, but I sit myself on the couch. In front of the speaker.

"I didn't want any of it! That's why I left! I didn't want to be her mother!"

_Her_ mother. Not _a_ mother.

"You know I wanted an abortion! But you convinced me not to! And then you leave me all alone with her all day long and go to work! I...I...I just couldn't stand it!"

"Renee. Please. Sto-"

I put my hand out to him still looking at the phone.

"So, I'm sorry! But you'll just have to figure it out. You've done it for 17 years! She'll be gone soon. And then you won't have to worry about her anymore. Just like you said."

"Oh my God." His hands cover his face. He then looks at me. I look up. There's...remorse. Embarrassment. Pain.

I can hear her breathing hard on the phone. I look back down. I move towards the phone.

"Don't worry, ma."

She gasps.

"Everything's gonna be okay."

"Bella?!" It's like a whisper. Like when she used to wake me every morning. Whispering sweet things in my ear. I would wake up smiling.

"There is nothing to worry about, Renee. I'm okay. Everything is okay."

"I... Oh shit! Charles, why didn't you tell me she was there?" she yells at Dad.

"It's okay. No worries." I tell him.

And I press the end button.

The silence that ensues is...numbing.

"Baby...I'm so sor-" he says as he walks toward me. Arms ready to engulf me in a hug.

I bolt right up straight from the sofa and back up toward the door. I just have to go. Get out. Get out. Get out!

"It's okay. It's fine. No worries, Char- Dad."

There's panic on his face. "Honey, let's just sit down and talk about this."

I hear someone laughing. Bitterly.

_That was you. _

Oh.

"It's okay. I just... Need to go...I...um...Angie's waiting for me. We're hanging out tonight."

_Walk. Just walk out. _

I get my bag from the floor.

"Bella, please. Just talk to me."

"Hey. Shouldn't you be in La Push by now? The guys must be wondering."

He stutters something.

"See you, Dad. Be careful." I try to yell out as I close the front door.

And then, I just go.

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A/N: Thank you all for reading. Reviews are appreciated. Pheobe44, I love you girl.


	10. Good Vodka

A/N: I case you missed it, I don't own...

* * *

**Chapter 10: ****Good Vodka**

_**Bella**_

I don't remember getting in my truck, but I guess I did. I don't remember the drive but I got here, so I guess I drove, too. I remember little of buying the vodka and the cigarettes. I think I stopped at the gas station just outside of town. I guess the kid manning the counter didn't know I was the Chief's daughter. Or didn't care.

You and be both, buddy.

So I'm sitting here. More like lying really, looking at the stars. From my favorite spot in the world.

There's this huge ass rock, big enough for me to spread out and lie down. It's awesome. You literally have to climb it. It's about thirty to forty feet from the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean. To the left, the tree line starts about... I don't know. They are a little ways to the left, okay? And to the right, there's nothing. Just cliffs. And my truck is parked off the side of the road, so no one crashes into it. Not that anyone comes up here. Just me.

It's high, it's quiet, and away. From everything. For every fucking thing.

The bottle is halfway gone. It's vodka. The good brand, mind you. I don't do things half-assed. I'm on my fifth cigarette. I don't do this often. Just when I've had an extremely shitty day. And I think this one counts, so.

My throat is a bit sore. I think I was screaming the whole way up here. And for the life of me, I don't know why, but my right hand hurts like a motherfucker. I pull it up, toward the stars. Yep. There's a little blood around my knuckles. And I think some swelling. Huh. Must have hit something.

I sigh to myself. Whatever. It's... whatever.

"Well..." I extend the bottle out and make a toast. "Thank you."

Deep breath in. "Thank you for confirming, yet AGAIN, that I shouldn't be alive."

Big gulp. Big pull of mentholed nicotine.

Good. This is good. Good vodka. Good burn. Not another soul around to bring me down anymore than I already am.

Well, at least the vodka is working. I'm feeling more relaxed now.

Some time passes. I think I've been here about two hours. Its still dark out . Really really dark.

"What exactly am I waiting for?" I ask the stars above me. I'm not crazy.

There's really nothing holding me here, anyway.

I should just go and not drag this out anymore. Who's it benefitting, really?

I sigh to myself. He's gonna be sad, no matter when I go. But I could relieve him of this burden a bit earlier though. He's worrying about me and he shouldn't be. He should be having good thoughts. Happiness. He should be worrying about his fishing, his baseball games...

He should get a girlfriend. Someone who'll make him happy and calm and just...give him good things. Good memories.

Oh! Maybe he already has one.

I think Sue likes him. It's in the way she looks at him whenever we go and check out at the grocery store. Yeah, I see the way she looks at him. And he's no better! He gets all nervous and shit when she is just saying 'hi'. Why aren't you tapping that, Charlie?

Probably because of me.

"Ugh!" I yank at my hair. Because he's ridiculous! "Stupid Charlie!"

But hey, I get it.

"You are always on the way, Swan." I tell myself.

I scrub my face with both hands. "So. What's stopping you?"

I try to come up with an answer. Really, I do. But the only thing that comes to mind is a pair of deep green eyes.

I scoff to myself. "Please." I look up to the stars. "He's not worth this. Even if he was... I'm not worthy of him, so... Think of something else!" I snap out. They're pissing me off. The stars, I mean. I'm not crazy.

And as I stare out to the millions of stars on this vast northern sky... None of them give me an answer.

"See?... Told you, bitches. There's nothing."

I sit back up.

Whoa! Dizzy.

The cliff is moving one way and I feel like I'm moving the other way.

"Goooood vodka."

I slip off the rock, wobbling a little bit as I try to stand up. Huffing and puffing, I finally do it.

"Jeez! Everything, stop moving!" Extending my arms out, I try to stand still.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. "Okay." Now, where was I? Oh, yeah.

I take a step toward the cliff. My foot slips a little on the grass.

"Whoa!" Stupid, uneven, wobbly grass!

Another step. No wobble this time.

"Ha!" Didn't get me this time. Stupid grass!

Almost there. Almost there.

I can hear more than see the waves now. Wow. It's really dark tonight. No moon.

I start getting dizzy again. My heart starts beating faster and I'm having a little trouble catching my breath. I stop walking and grip my chest.

"Shit. Good vodka."

Some people say you'll see your life flash by in front of you at this moment.

I'm waiting.

I see nothing. Probably a bunch of crap.

Well, one last breath in. This is it. Done.

Squaring my shoulders, head held high, full with as much clarity as I can muster with all this vodka, I start taking my last three steps.

And although I have just disproven the 'walk through memory lane experience' theory just a couple of seconds ago, I did not know that at a moment like this your brain would try and sabotage your determined efforts to end it all by conjuring up the most fucked up hallucinations.

Because since I didn't hear a car or a bike or even see a fucking hang-glider land...

"Bella!"

I turn to the spund of my name and of course...

Edward Motherfucking Cullen is suddenly coming toward me from out of fucking nowhere.

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A/N: Thank you all for reading. Reviews are appreciated. Pheobe44, well you know...


	11. EMC

**Chapter 11: EMC**

_**Bella**_

Edward Motherfuckin' Cullen.

If my afternoon wasn't shitty enough.

"Bella! What are doing? What's going on?" He has this panicky look on his eyes, eyeing everything around us.

Edward Motherfuckin' Cullen.

"Where's everyone?" he asks doing circles. Looking for... I have no idea what.

Edward Motherfuckin' Cullen.

He stops spinning, and looks at me. And then he REALLY looks at me. From head to toe. From one side to the other. I think it dawns on him when he sees the bottle I'm holding. His face totally changes from bewildered confusion to a sobering, stern look. He even goes a little pale.

"You're drinking."

Edward Motherfuckin' Cullen.

"You're drinking. Alone. On a cliff." His tone low, calm. Cold.

Edward Motherfuckin' Cullen.

"Yes, Bella. It's me. Edward Motherfuckin' Cullen. I heard you the five times you've said it," he says, glaring at me.

_Fuck. When did you say __that out loud? And five fucking times?_

"Yes. Five fucking times. Now, could you please tell me what you're doing here in a cliff at night with a bottle of vodka all by yourself?!" He's yanking at his hair now.

_Such pretty, pretty hair. I want to yank it __like tha..._

"What?"

_Fuck!_

"What?" Surely my eyes are bugging out because I can't just fucking believe that I said THAT out loud.

"What did you just say?" He takes a step. Toward me.

"I didn't say anything."

"What's pretty?" He's narrowing his eyes at me now.

"I...um, I.." Apparently I've become a stutterer now.

And as quick as the stuttering and confusion on how to answer him began, it is replaced by something else entirely. Anger so hot and consuming, I swear steam is really coming out of my ears.

How dare he come here. How dare he asks me questions I don't want to answer. How dare he stop me.

"What are YOU doing here, Edward?" Now it's my time to glare at him.

"I just asked you that question, Bella. Don't turn this around. What are you doing? Why are you here? Alone!" he yells and pleads for an answer with those beautiful green eyes.

I huff. "What the hell does it look like?! I'm hanging out. Releasing some stress, ya know? Getting a little drink on. What? You don't drink? Don't you sometimes need to be ALONE?" I stress this word to him because dammit! What the hell is he doing here?! "... and just... I don't know... decompress or something!" My arms are flailing. I can't help it. He exasperates me.

_Okay, now you're starting to ramble. I suggest you shut __it._

He's just looking at me now. Maybe trying to decipher a hidden meaning to my words because he's nodding. Slowly. "Okay."

"Okay what?" Did he say something? Did I miss it?

"So what are we drinking?"

Huh?

He starts walking and then climbs the rock.

"What are you doing?" I ask while he scoots to the middle of the rock. MY rock! And gets comfortable by lying back on his elbows.

"What? I'm hanging. Is that vodka? Is it the good stuff or the cheap one?"

I'm pretty sure my mouth is hanging open.

_He looks so fucking good __on that rock. Just...lounging there..._

Stop! Just stop!

_Okay okay! Jeez. Just stating the obvious. _

I try to clear my head a little by blinking a few times. Shaking my head is out of the question. His presence has significantly diminished my buzz but still...

"Go. Away. Edward," I deadpan.

"Come on, Bella. Just sit with me."

That smirk. That smirk is what's going to kill me.

All the anger drains away from me. I just feel...defeated.

"You're in my way," I mutter and walk toward him.

He scoots over and sits straighter.

"Come on up." He's patting the rock besides him.

I drag my feet. Shoulders hunched.

I can't catch a break, man!

He's staying. Sitting on MY rock. Shit.

I take a sip before handing over the bottle. I need both hands to get up there.

Totally awkward. I feel his eyes on me. I probably look like a drunk crab or something crawling my way up. Fucking tall ass boulder.

He takes a sniff of the bottle and coughs a little on the exhale.

"Phew! That's harsh!"

I side glare him as I sit my ass down beside him.

"Good. More for me then." I take the bottle from him. I can't fill the burn anymore. Means it's working.

"What's going on, Bella?"

"God! What's will all the questions?!"

_Yeah what's will all the questions Cullen? Shit!_

He's staring. Intensely. "I just want to know."

"Why?!" I ask incredulously.

His hands start molesting his hair.

"I'm ... Uh.."

"You're...?"

"I'm just..."

I don't understand his...what, concern?

"I'm just...curious."

Ah. Nope. Not concern.

Of course not.

"You know, curiosity killed the cat."

He chuckles at that.

I wasn't trying to be funny.

"Bella."

Gulp.

Nope. No burn.

"Look at me."

Gulp.

"Dammit. Stop drinking that!" He snatches it away and throws it over the cliff.

Damn! Good arm!

"Please, tell me what's wrong."

I'm suddenly too tired to keep semi upright. So my body decides to lie back on the rock.

"Nothing's wrong. Why do you keep asking that?"

The stars are spinning. I close my eyes. Much better. For good measure, I throw one arm over my eyes to keep myself from looking at him.

Silence. Sweet silence.

Maybe he left.

"You can talk to me, you know. Sometimes it helps."

No such luck.

"There's nothing to talk about."

Really. There is nothing worth talking about.

"If there wasn't, you wouldn't be here drinking yourself to death," I hear him say.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Edward." I open my eyes now to look at him. Try to make my point with the glaring thing.

"And it's just one bottle. You've never gotten yourself drunk? Just for the shit of it?!"

"Not alone," he says quietly while looking at me.

He's not stupid. I'm not stupid. We both know what he's implying. I think he knows where I was going with this drinkorama.

We're at a stare standoff.

"What's it to you?"

More staring. Right through me.

"You're hurting."

Not a question. An empirical statement.

Like he knows my truth.

Like a stab to the gut. That's how that felt.

"Again. What's it to you?"

His eyes soften.

"You need someone."

"I most definitely do not." I sit up, huff and cross my arms. Holding myself together tight. He's breaking me with his words.

"To talk to, I mean."

His eyes are wrecking me. But I can't fucking look away.

"There's no one."

"That's not true."

Snort. I can look away now. Lies brake up his eye-voodoo.

"You have friends."

Double snort.

"No, I don't."

"Hey. I've seen you."

I give him my 'oh pa-leez' look. I lie back down. Getting dizzy again but not from the vodka.

"At school, you have a group of friends. You talk to them. Eat lunch with them."

It's like he's pleading my case.

"You've been checking me out, Cullen?" Another snort because now I'm just fucking with him.

His eyes go wide.

"Angela's your friend."

I sigh.

"Angela is everyone's friend."

Not in a bad way. She's just good people.

"Those are classmates, Cullen. Nothing more. They want me to tag along at lunch. They ask about homework or just want to vent about some bullshit."

He's deep in thought after that one.

"I just sit there and listen. Nod and smile like I'm supposed to."

Oh oh. I feel a rant coming on. Strange feeling. But since he wants to know so bad...

"None of them ever ask me anything. They don't really care. I'm just Chief Swan's daughter to them, so they put up with me. Why? I have no idea. You'll have to ask them.

I just sit there and pretend. I don't give a fuck, either. It's just somewhere to sit while having lunch. To pass the hour. I could go to the library but all those dusty books give me the sneezes. I'd rather be outside but as you've probably noticed, it's always raining here."

See. Ranting.

"What am I going to talk about, anyway? I've got nothing to contribute. Nothing remotely interesting to say to them."

"Bella," he chastises. "You're not stupid."

"I know I'm not, Edward," I snap back in the same tone.

"Then why do you say that?"

This talking business is tiring. I exhale.

"Because nothing that comes out of my mouth is worth listening to. Nobody cares. Nobody listens," I whisper, embarassed I'm saying all this to him.

"That's not true."

"Oh, yes it is." I chuckle. Sadly.

I look up. The stars aren't spinning so much now.

"Sometimes, I thought the problem was my voice, you know? Maybe it's annoying. Or maybe I speak too low and they didn't hear me. But even after repeating myself a little louder…nothing. It was like...like I wasn't even there. Like I'm a ghost."

Just breathe.

"Am I a ghost, Edward? Is that it? That's why no one sees me?"

I can hear him breathing.

Silence again. I guess he's finally realizing it. What a waste of his time this night has been.

"I see you," he whispers. Sounding so so sweet my heart brakes in half.

"Yes. Because you're curious. Once you realize there's nothing to be curious about...this..."

I wave my hand up and down my body. Because I'm still sprawled on the rock. Can't sit up yet. Still spinning a little, you know.

"...you will confidently conclude..."

He snorts at my choice words.

Whatever.

"...that there's nothing...to be curious about."

"Will I?" He smirks.

"Yes. So I'm saving you the trouble."

I know he's staring again. I can feel it. It's unnerving.

"But I like trouble." From the corner of my eye, I see it. Smirk on full force.

I chuckle. "Well, look for it somewhere else 'cause I ain't giving you any."

I sit up. No spinning. Good. I start to shuffle myself down the rock. I must look like an asshole.

"Where are you going?" he asks as he gracefully jumps down. Stupid beautifully long manly legs.

"Home." I sigh. Where else.

We look at each other. Time stands still.

He puts his hands in his pocket.

"Can you drive?"

"Yep. I'm good."

He has killed my buzz. Motherfucker.

"You sure? I could drive you?"

"I don't understand," I whine. So tired of this. Everything.

My hands are in my hair. Because I don't frakking understand why he's being this way.

"I just want to make sure you get home okay. That's all."

Oh My God!

I yell out, "but why?! I don't understand why you care?!"

I'm angry. Confused. I don't get it. I don't get him.

And you know what his answer was?

Nothing. After a minute, he just looks down and shrugs his shoulders.

Exactly.

"Bye, Edward."

I spin around and walk to my truck. I can see his car parked by the side of the road in front of my truck.

I can hear him behind me. When I open the truck's door to get inside, I hear it.

"I care."

But my steps don't falter. I hop up and put the keys in the ignition.

"Nah. Like you said. You're just curious."

I can't even look at him. I start the truck and get the hell out of there.

He follows me all the way home.


	12. A deal over made over eggs and bacon

**Chapter 12: A deal made over eggs and bacon…and French toast**

A/N: Thanks again to my comma ninja, Phoebe44. I don't own the characters, just the plot.

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_**Bella**_

I can believe what I did last night. God!

What the hell was I thinking?!

Laying it all out in front of him? Why couldn't I just keep my mouth shut?

It's Saturday, so I usually sleep till late afternoon. I mean, why not? Charlie is not home, of course. He's at the _Rez_ fishing.

I'm currently staring at my ceiling, splayed out in bed. It's like I can't move. I'm mortified. What must he think of me now?

_Why do you care what he thinks?!_

Right, right. I shouldn't care.

I mean, I don't.

Okay.

Pep talk over, I drag myself to the bathroom and go to the sink for a much needed mouth washing. I look at myself and - Guh! I feel like I look. Pale skin, dark circles under my eyes, haystack hair.

Horrible! Just horrible!

_Whatever. _

I remember getting home last night and Charlie was asleep on his recliner. Empty beer cans were surrounding him on the floor. I though I was being stealthy, tiptoeing upstairs but that damn fifth step creaks every freaking time!

"_**Bella?" he slurred **__**while getting up. **_

_**I felt **__**myself deflate. So close!**_

"_**Hey, are you okay?" he asked **__**me, now standing at the bottom of the stairs. **_

"_**Yeah, I'm fine Dad**__**," I whispered **__**to him just turning my head to the side. I couldn't **__**look at him right now. **_

"_**I'm so sorry you heard that, honey. I can't believe she said -" **_

"_**Dad!" I almost yelled**__**. "I don't want to talk about it."**_

"_**But Bella, I – "**_

"_**No!" I yell at him. I fully turn around. The look on his eyes… Jesus! Devastating. **_

_**I take a deep breath to control the rage within me. "I'm really fine, Dad. I don't want to talk about it. Ever**__**," I say pointedly. **_

_**He rubs his face with one hand and says, "Okay. Okay."**_

_**He knows I'm not budging on this. **_

_**He knows that to me, my egg **__**donor is dead. **_

"_**Night**__**," I say as I turn around and head up to my room. **_

"_**Night, Belly." **_

_**He used to call me that when I was little. **_

_**I turn on the landing, "Night, Daddy Bear**__**."**_

My head is killing me. I need coffee and drugs. The aspirin bottle is on the kitchen counter. Charlie pops one at breakfast everyday. Either for his heart or for his almost daily hangover headache, I don't know. Probably the latter.

I walk with my eyes closed, knowing the layout of the kitchen by heart. I extend my hand up to the cabinet, open the door and retrieve a glass. I take the orange juice out and pour some. I take the bottle of aspirin and try to open it, but won't budge.

"Stupid…child proof… resistant…cap!" I mutter, using both my thumbs trying to pry open the damn thing.

A couple of things happen at once. First, I hear a throat clear behind me just as I get the stupid thing to open. Then I scream bloody murder and the pills go flying. Thirdly, I turn around, I grip the counter with my hands behind my back and in the process, manage to knock out the glass of juice and juice bottle. And finally, the pills scatter all over and the juice is dripping to the floor and all over by backside and legs.

But it's not over.

Who do I see sitting in Charlie's chair at the kitchen table? None other than Edward Motherfuckin' Cullen.

Since I haven't stopped screaming, I keep going just a little more high-pitched. You see, I'm in my house; ergo, I came downstairs in nothing but threadbare sleeping shirt… and panties.

And he's just sitting there. Slack jawed, wide-eyed and looking me up and down.

I take a lungful of air, panic mode on.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

"I…um, I wa—" he stutters while standing up.

"NO! OH MY GOD! DON'T MOVE! STAY THERE! TURN AROUND!" I yell, trying to cover up my girly parts with my hands.

"Okay, okay, Bella." He slowly puts his hands up as in surrender. "I'm turning around. But you need to calm down."

"TURN AROUND!"

"I'm turning around. Take a breath. You're hyperventilating."

I am, actually. My heart is a mile a minute and I'm shaking all over. It's getting harder and harder to breathe.

He's facing the kitchen entrance now, and I crouch down a little to control my breathing.

"You need some water. I'm gonna get ya som—" he says, standing up and walking backwards toward the fridge. He opens it and retrieves a bottle of water for me.

"Edward, don't loo—"

"I'm not looking. Here," he says, giving it to me still facing the other way, looking out the window above the sink.

It's open already. I take a gulp. "Thank you," I whisper. Still breathing hard but I'm a little calmer.

I stare at his back and ask. Again. "How and why the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?"

He lowers his hands to the kitchen sink and exhales. "Charlie let me in."

"What?!"

"I was outside. Waiting in my car." He shrugs his shoulders and adds, "I guess he saw me before I saw him 'cause next thing I know he's coming out the house directly toward my car."

I remain silent trying to process what he's saying.

"He made me get out of the car," he says looking a little sideways. "We talked a little…and then he told me to wait inside. We came in, he sat me down on that chair," he says pointing at it, "and told me to wait." He stops talking trying to look at me from his periphery, I'm sure. I'm still crouched down on the corner, my back to the cabinets.

"So I did."

Now I'm the one who's slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

"H-how…w-why…?" I couldn't form a thought, yet alone a sentence.

"I'm really sorry. I though you saw me when you walked in and were just ignoring me. I didn't mean to scare you so bad."

Silence stretched.

What the fuck is wrong with Charlie letting a boy come inside while I'm unaware and asleep?! Jesus!

I clear my throat and say, "I'm going upstairs. To change."

"Okay. I'll be here."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Don't look!"

"I won't."

I get up and make a mad dash out of there.

_OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD! _

"SHITSHITSHIT!" I say to myself as I lock the door to my room.

_Did Edward Cullen just see __your panties?!_

Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

"Okay, Bella. Don't loose your shit. Keep it together. Put on some clothes, go downstairs and tell him to take a hike." I whisper-yell to myself. I take my shirt off, "Whoa!" I smell as bad as I look. "Shower."

* * *

I go downstairs, eyes wide open now. My house smells delicious. Since I got out of the shower, the smell of fresh coffee and bacon has got me salivating.

He's still here. In my kitchen. Cooking apparently. And I guess, he picked up the spilled pills because I don't see any.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Oh, hey. I thought you would be starving. With all of the drinking last night…"

He is facing me, a kitchen towel draped over his shoulder, a spatula in one hand and the frying pan in the other.

"You cook."

He chuckles and smirks a little. "Yes, Bella. I cook."

I guess my stare is a little on the accusatory side because he's now looking uncomfortable. "Is…is this okay?"

The table is filled with plates of French toast, scrambles eggs and bacon. There is also a pot of coffee and two glasses of orange juice.

I feel…I don't know how I feel. Tears are threatening to fall. No one has made be breakfast in a long time.

I look up at him. He's watching me closely, confusion now showing on his face.

"You better make a lots more bacon 'cause I ain't sharing."

He smiles.

_Glorious. _

He laughs. "Of course. Sit. Sit."

As I sit, he moves the rest of the bacon from the pan into the plate at the table.

He sits on Charlie's chair. I don't know where to look. It's so awkward seeing him in my home.

"Coffee?" he asks taking the pot and hovering over one of the mugs.

"Yes, thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Edward," I whisper. He looks up, arching his eyebrows. "Really, thank you. For this, for last night…"

He stares at me for a bit.

"You're welcome, Bella," he says with a smile. "Dig in. It's getting cold."

So we do. We dig in. I moan a little when I took my first bite of the French toast and he almost choks on his coffee because of it. I know I feel my face getting hot and probably fire-engine red, while he tries to get some air on his lungs. But after that, we eat in silence. And it is… great. Too great.

Once full and finished, I get up and start clearing the table. He does the same.

"No, I got it. Sit down. You cooked, I clean," I tell him. He slumps back down.

My back is to him as I'm cleaning the dishes, but I feel his stare.

He clears his throat, "so…"

"Yeah?" I say turning my head in his direction, but keeping my eyes on the fork I'm washing.

"That color on the cabinets…it's…so yellow," he says.

I smirk to myself. "Yes."

"It's…pretty."

Now I turn to look at him. "No, it's not. It's an eighties paint job gone terribly, terribly wrong," I say, dare I admit, smiling at him.

He smirks.

I sigh.

"Edward… what are you doing here?" I ask.

"Umm… having breakfast?" he says slowly.

"Dude!"

"What?" His eyes are all innocent-looking.

I just stare at him, waiting for an explanation.

"Okay, okay. Look…" he says, slouching back on the chair and closing his eyes. He brings his hands to his hair, ruffling it. His shirt rides up and I get a glimpse of the top of his V and a little bit of the light brown hairline that disappears down his jeans.

_Ohhhhh…_

Gulp.

"Yes, I have an ulterior motive for coming here."

I look up at his face hoping to God he didn't see my slip.

"What is it then?"

"I…I want us…to be friends," he says, gauging my reaction.

I don't move a muscle. I just look at him trying to decipher his angle here. I don't find it, so I ask, "Why?"

"Why not?"

"Why yes?!"

He sighs.

"Bella, why can't we be friends?"

"I have friends."

"Last night, you said you said you didn't."

Point for Edward.

"I don't know you."

Point for me.

"Then let's rectify that."

Scratch that point.

I'm thinking of a comeback when he says, "Why is it so hard for you to let me in? Apart from not knowing me, that is?"

"People talk. You may not be a good influence for me," I say defensively, remembering what Ms. Cope said about him the day of the almost accident, and trying to build an excuse.

It doesn't really pan out.

He smirks again.

_God! That smirk will__ kill us!_

"Don't believe everything you hear, Bella. Most people get it wrong."

That peaks my interest. "How so?"

"Nope. Don't try to steer the conversation away from you."

Damn.

"Come on. I'm a great friend, a great listener. I'm really funny by the way."

I can't help but laugh a little while I try to glare at him.

"Thank you," he says, smiling.

"For what?"

"For letting me hear that laugh. I think it's the first time I've heard it."

He's still smiling at me.

I'm…I'm stunned speechless.

Who is this guy?!

"Okay, let's make a deal," he says.

"Let's have a trial period," he adds. "Let's try this out. If it doesn't work out for you, or if you feel that you can't…or don't want to be my friend after, oh let's say, two months… we'll go our separate ways. No harm done."

I'm looking at him. My head is saying ABORT, ABORT, ABORT! NO WAY, NO HOW! But my heart…my stupid heart says LET'S GIVE HIM A CHANCE. WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO LOOSE, ANYWAY?

"A week."

"Come on!" he laughs, "That's not enough time. A month and a half."

"Three."

"Three months?! Yes!" he exclaims.

I roll my eyes at him. "Three weeks," I point out.

"One month."

I sigh, unsure, and look out the window over the sink.

"Bella." He waits until I look at him to continue.

"I'm not a bad guy. I don't want to hurt you….I just want to know you." He says quietly but the flurry of emotions in his eyes are like a tornado to me. From exasperation to concern to…hope?

"You still haven't answered. Why me?"

"Why no—"

"And why not is not an answer!" I tell him.

"I find you…." he says looking at me like….well, I can't decipher that one.

I wait. I'm not even breathing.

"Intriguing."

A snort escapes from my lips.

"It's true!" he exclaims, standing up and closing the distance a little.

My eyes roam his face trying to find the deception. I can't find it.

He's either a _really_ good liar or he's…

_Telling the truth? Come on! __Give the guy a chance will ya? For us? Pretty please?_

Ugh!

"All right, Edward Cullen. A month."

"Yes!" He actually fist-pumps.

"I just hope after a month you can deal with the regret of wasting all that time with me." I say I'm serious.

He tilts his head a little and says with a smirk, "I'll prove you wrong."

"Sure, sure."

"Okay!" he says and takes a lungful of air, like he's relieved. "I'm gonna go."

"Okay."

We start waking toward the front door. Once it's open, he steps outside and spins around all of a sudden and says, "What are yo—"

I gasp, startled, as I was walking right behind him when he turns. I start falling back.

"Whoa!" He stops me from falling by grabbing my arms. An electric shock goes through both my arms at the contact. Like the static zap I get from my the truck when I go open it the morning, only ten times stronger. Although this zap doesn't hurt. It feels…

_Amazing._

"Sorry," he says.

"It's okay," I murmur completely embarrassed.

He lets go and after a couple of seconds of awkwardness he clears his throat and says, "What are you doing tonight?"

Internally, my eyes are bugging out, but I'm all cool and collected on the outside. I think.

"Laundry."

"Oh ho ho! Exciting!" he says laughing.

"Yeah."

"Wanna hang out?" he asks.

Now I know my eyes are really bugging out.

"Too soon?" he says looking sheepish.

I chuckle and yank my hair a little. "Yeah."

"Okay. I'll back off," he says as he walks away backwards, "for now."

I stand there as he gets in his car and drives off. I'm still standing there when the mailman comes and hands me the mail since I'm still standing at the open door staring at nothing like an idiot.

What the hell did I get myself into?!

* * *

A/N: So, I was thinking maybe some EPOV next. Anyone interested?


	13. Call 1-800-Psychic

**Chapter 13: Call 1-800-Psychic**

A/N: Sorry for the wait. Real life and all...

This is Edward. He got wordy, so next chapter is also his. This one was getting too long for me.

Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think.

* * *

_**Edward**_

I almost killed that girl.

The exhaustion I was feeling before all of this happened has evaporated completely. It's like I've been electrocuted back into the present.

I was so close to running her over. I can't remember what was I thinking just then? Was I even looking to where I was going?! Shit, I need to sleep! Fucking nightmares.

But have you've ever had one of those _Aha!_ moments? Yeah, me neither. But I gotta say, meeting Bella Swan for the first time….whoa!

It wasn't _Aha!_ It was a bolt of lightning running through my hands where I touched her and it spread all over my body. It scared me shitless. I've never felt anything like that. And I've been struck my lighting before.

But once I got her up from the floor and smelled her…Jesus! It was like…

Like a warm blanket on a cold snowy day.

Like your mom's cooking after you've been eating takeout for months!

Like the light at the end of a ridiculously long and dark tunnel.

She was home, simple as that.

And then she got away from me. People came and took her away to the nurse's office or something. I hope she's alright. I need to talk to her.

Smell her again.

Again, this has never happened to me. Back in Seattle there were girls, sure. But no one like this! No one lit me up from the inside just by a mere innocent touch. There is something to this Swan, and I need to find out what it is.

She's beautiful.

Deep light brown eyes, long wavy shimmering dark brown hair…

God! I sound like a girl.

Oh, but those lips! Rosy pink and luscious. I want to bite that lower lip while I'm kissing her. She must taste incredible.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. She probably has a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend? I really hope not, to either. But how can she not be taken? She has everything! She is perfect!

Again, getting ahead of myself. I guess I'll have to do some reconnaissance first.

* * *

Dammit! I don't have any classes with her but I'm working on that. I can be charming when need be.

* * *

Okay, mission accomplished. It has taken a couple of days but I've found some good information. She is definitely single, lives with her dad who is the Chief of Police by the way, yikes!

She has some friends who she has lunch with but most of the times she just sits there, barely talks and barely eats. She looks like she's paying attention, nods and smiles, but I see… I see her.

It slips out when she thinks no one is looking but only just for a couple of seconds. The mask falters.

Sadness.

Hurt.

Anguish.

I think her friends are oblivious to it, at least from what I can observe. They don't pay much attention to her, except the girl with the glasses.

I saw her Friday night at the fund-raising party. It's not my scene but I went in hopes of seeing her. She didn't seem to like being there, either. I saw her walking out while I was taking a smoke break, my excuse for getting away from the loud noise those kids call music, wandering hands and the disgusting PDA by Jasper and my sister.

I tried to be all cool and shit but I think she took it the wrong way. I don't understand her. Mind you, I've talked to her twice but still…. She's different from other girls. In the past, other girls would have already tried to get into my pants. In this school, some have already tried.

I may look like a player, but I'm not. I know I'm good looking; therefore it wouldn't be hard for me to get a 'date'. I'm not being pretentious. It's just fact. I exude the loner type persona to repel unwanted attention. My siblings would probably tell you I'm a total doofus, but it's better this way, really. I don't want a repeat of last year.

But I digress. I said I wasn't going to get involved with anyone or anything in a long time but Isabella is…intriguing. I'm just curious about her. Again, that first time I touched her… I need to figure out what that was.

Oh yeah! And I was able to transfer to her biology class. At least, I'll be closer to her and hopefully we'll get to talk some more.

* * *

Fucking Emmett and that fucking football!

And of all the people I could have knocked down, of course it had to be Isabella.

That is the second time I've made her fall. But this time, I made her fall and spilled the half bottle of grape juice down her shirt.

God! Can I be any lamer?!

She's going to hate me before she gets to know me. Hell, she probably already does!

* * *

Isabella has been absent from school. I want to think it wasn't from the cafeteria incident but guilt is gnawing at my insides. I mean, it was an accident, right? No big deal. But still… Alice followed her to the restroom that day and said she wasn't looking so good.

I don't know why I'm so worried. We don't know each other. We aren't even friends. Probably never will after that debacle. Alice isn't friends with her either and I can see she's worried too. But what can we do?

Maybe she was feeling sick already that day and just decided to go home. Yeah, that's probably what happened.

It's Thursday and I'm in a shitty mood. By lunch time it doesn't get any better. I'm sitting watching Isabella's friends at their table chatting away like nothing is wrong. Like the most important person that sits at that table is not missing! Some friends… Her chair was swiped by another girl from the next table over and they didn't even notice.

"Edward, stop yanking your hair. You look mental doing that!" Rose says. She's right but it's a nervous habit. I can't help it.

"What are you looking at anyway?" she asks and looks in the direction of the not-so-great-friends table.

"Nothing," I say, looking back to her and slump in my chair.

She now looks at me and gets that I'm-analyzing-you expression on her face. I hate that look.

"Nothing. Just bored out of my mind," I tell her. That's more believable that my out-of-nowhere obsession with a girl I've barely spoken to.

"She's not in school today, either. I checked with the office and her father called saying she was sick," says Alice while sitting down beside me and Jasper following and sitting in front of me.

"Are you okay, Edward?" he asks.

"Who's sick?" Emmett joins in after setting his food tray down on the table and slobbering Rose with a kiss. Gross!

"Yes," I answer Jasper.

"No one," I say to Emmett which earns me a narrowed eyeing by Rose.

"Isabella," says Alice with a grin which earns her an eye roll from me.

"Who's that?" asks Emmett and starts stuffing his face.

"Yes, Edward. Who is Isabella? It's that why you're stalking that table over there?" Rose asks. Nothing gets past her.

Alice starts ranting excitedly, "Oh Rose! She's so nice. Albeit, a little shy, I think. She doesn't talk too much. But she seems nice. I mean, I haven't talked to her much but I think she's nice. I mean—"

"Okay babe, we get it. You think she's nice," Jasper interrupts her chuckling. "But what does she have to do with Edward's…. nervousness?" he asks her though looking at me.

Do I look nervous? Am I nervous? Why would I be nervous?

Oh yeah, I haven't seen her in three days. Three days!

God! What is wrong with me?

"You know her, E?" asks Emmett.

"Gross, dude! Don't talk and chew at the same time!" I tell him. "And no, I don't know her."

"But you want to, right?" Emmett asks, with an eyebrow wiggle and everything. What are we, ten?!

"No," I answer, but Alice buts in at the same time, "yes!"

I death-glare Alice but she just smiles and avoids eye contact.

"Okay…." says Jasper looking between us, "I don't understand what's happening."

Rose decides to share her wisdom.

Oh goody.

"I think Edward here is a little infatuated with this Isabella girl and maybe she's not being all that perceptive to his advances?" she says arching a brow at me.

Everyone is silent, waiting for my answer. The problem is, I can't lie to these people. They know me too well.

So I surrender.

"Okay okay, yes. She's this girl I'm….curious about," I say hesitantly.

All of them roll their eyes but wait for me to continue.

"But I haven't had the chance to talk to her, I mean really talk to her, and I think every day that passes by I'm losing my chance."

Wow, I AM a girl. Jesus!

"But who is it? Have we seen her?" Emmett asks looking confused.

"Remember the girl I spilled my lunch tray over the day you threw the football at me here?" I ask him with a stern face.

"Oh! Yeah," he says remembering, "Ouch! Fuck man, sorry about that, again."

"Uh huh. Exactly," I tell him.

"And she's the same one you almost run over that first day in the parking lot," Alice contributes, to my chagrin.

"Oh shit," Jasper comments.

"Oh shit is right," I mumble.

All of us mull over this for a while.

"I don't have a chance in hell, do I? I fucked it up!" I say yanking my hair again. I can't help it.

"Edward," Alice says disentangling my fingers from my hair. "She's probably sick for real. Don't think she's not here because of you," she says taking my hand in hers.

They know me so well.

"Yeah. I mean, you said you haven't spoken to each other all that much, so don't guilt-trip yourself. You couldn't have said much to make her feel bad," Jasper says trying to reassure me.

"Yeah, but the few instances we have talked, I get the feeling she's takong it the wrong way," I say, whining like a little girl and hitting my forehead on the table.

I remember the night of the party. She left looking… I don't know if angry is the way to describe it. More like resigned to an unsavory truth. A little hurt, even. Her eyes… Looking back, I told her I was curious and found her weird. I didn't mean her being weird, just the fact that she didn't have a date to the party. I mean, she's gorgeous! How is it possible nobody sees that?!

I am communicationally-impaired when it comes to her. She probably really believed I thought she was weird. God! I'm such an ass!

And there is nothing wrong with being weird. Everyone in this table has a varying degree of weirdness. And I'm the president of the board on that.

"What do I do?" I implored to them splaying my arms and hands on the table. "Help me."

After another round of silence and almost signing away my defeat, Rose speaks up.

"Why don't we send Carlisle to go check on her?"

What?!

"What?!" everyone else echoing my thoughts.

"Well, she's supposedly sick, so let's send in the good doctor," she explains. I just look at her like she's out of her mind.

"Rose, for God's sake! How can we do that?! It's ridiculous! What's she going to think?! What would be the excuse for that imposition? She probably went to the doctor already," I hiss at her.

"Edw—" she starts but I stop her.

"No, Rose. First of all, how are you going to convince Carlisle to go? And second, what is he going to say? 'Oh you see Isabella, my son Edward is worrying himself sick because he thinks you're probably dying on your deathbed and none of your supposed friends give a fuck. They're all going about their day as if you haven't been absent for the last three days,'"

I make my point by looking over their table, all of them laughing and joking around. I huff out loud and all of my friends look at me like I've lost my mind.

And I've probably have.

"Okay, let's calm down now," says Jasper. "Look E, this has you all twisted up inside. I can see it. Everyone can see it too." They all nod their heads. Bastards!

"Even Mom and Dad can see something is bothering you, bro," Emmett says.

"What?!" I yell, straightening in my chair.

"Yes, Mom asked me this morning if I knew what was wrong with you. She says you're more mopey than usual," Alice says timidly with a weak smile.

"Oh, fuck!" I mumble to myself rubbing my face with my hands. "Really? She asked you?"

Alice nods and Jasper adds, "She asked me too but I didn't know what to tell her."

"What did you tell her, Alice?!" I asked her starting to freak out a little. When Esme gets in her all-out-mama-mode she can get a little overbearing.

"Nothing, really…" she says looking away.

"Alice," I call her out, in a tell-me-now mode.

"Well… I just said that maybe it was because of a girl…" I'm sure my face pales. "But nothing else. I swear, brother!" she rushes out explaining.

Oh God! If she knows, Carlisle knows too.

"So, we ask Carlisle. I'm sure he won't say no, if he thinks it will put your mind at rest," says Rose.

"Rose don—" I start but she interrupts me.

"Edward, look at me."

I look at her, her tone saying she serious.

"Is she important?" she asks moving a little closer to Emmett.

I think about it for about two seconds. "She could be," is my answer.

"Well then, done. Alice and I will ask Carlisle. We'll ask him to say Alice was the one who asked for the favor, so don't have a coronary, okay?"

She may look like an Ice Queen, but Rose is the softest, most compassionate of us all.

"Thank you, Rose. Thank you, all," I say looking around the table at my friends, my family.

"We just want you happy, E. None of this moping around anymore. You'll get early onset baldness. That's a thing, right?" Emmett says making all of us chuckle.

"Just take it slow, Edward. If it's meant to be, she'll come around," Jasper tells me.

"And if it's not…meant to be?" I whisper.

Looks of concern pass around the table.

How I wish one of them was psychic…


	14. Am I in or out?

**Chapter 14: Am I in or out?**

Thank you Phoebe44 for being my comma ninja, my crusader and long-time friend.

Thank you Tarbecca from A Different Forest for mentioning this little fic on the site.

Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I appreciate the feedback.

This is the last EPOV for a while. Next one will be Bella's.

* * *

_**Edward**_

She's skittish.

She doesn't take compliments well.

She's infuriating.

She's adorable.

She's hurt. So hurt. I'm second guessing my desire to pursuit her.

I don't know if I can take it on. That hurt behind her eyes, I can see it more clearly now. I'm carrying so much of my own that I don't know if I can get involved in hers too and come out unscathed.

But I don't think I can help it. She's like gravity to me. Her pull is undeniable.

* * *

Friday started out disastrously. I've been on edge all week so when I finally saw Isabella at school, I projected all my pent up anxiety into her. Our interaction could have gone better. I mean, I'm trying to get her to open up to me and what do I do? I yell and hiss at her for thinking she owes us for Dad's house call.

Real smooth, Cullen.

I didn't get to see her in biology. I guess she had to make up some test or something she missed Wednesday and took it in the library. Mr. Banner told me of this after he saw me doing today's experiment alone, again. I still haven't had her as my lab partner. I hope that will change soon.

I hurried outside as soon as the last bell rang to see if I could find her. I needed to apologize and tell her about the upcoming midterm project. I could kiss Mr. Banner for that. He gave me an in with her she couldn't avoid.

So I channeled my charming self and apologized. I think I flustered her a bit. Made her uncomfortable too, but I think that's unavoidable. Again, she's so skittish. Maybe that's only with me? I don't know.

* * *

She was in my house. Isabella Swan was in my home, sat with me in the dining room and we proceeded to work on our biology project. To say I was nervous is an understatement. And that's the thing. I don't get nervous, especially around girls. What's to be nervous about, right?

But I was.

And in my nervousness, I got exasperated with her. God! She's clumsy. And also, I noticed she's spaces out at the weirdest times.

Okay, I admit I was waiting for her to arrive. I think I've been ready and waiting for her for at least an hour, looking out the window by the door every five minutes. I felt such relief when her monster of a truck appeared and stopped in front of my house. In the back of my mind, there was that nagging though she probably wouldn't show up.

But she did.

And then, she made me wait some more because she wouldn't get out of her truck. I mean, what the hell!

Finally, I had enough, opened the door and stood outside the porch thinking maybe she's not sure about the address and that's the reason she won't come out. But it wasn't. I stood there, and she just stayed put. I walked down to the driver's side door and she didn't even bat an eyelash. She still kept starring toward the house.

She's either daydreaming, spaced out, or having a brain aneurysm. I'm hoping for the first one and that it's about me…

So of course, I scared the hell out of her by tapping on her window; lightly might I add, but she hit her head. I stifled my laughter because I figured she wouldn't appreciate it.

And I couldn't help it. She looked like she was in pain, so I tried to see if there was any blood. I wanted to touch her, soothe her pain away, hold her, anything. But she wouldn't have it. She jerked back and snapped at me, and my response wasn't any better. I got frustrated with her because she wouldn't let me help.

And that's what I want. That's all I want.

I know that she doesn't know me. But I want her to.

I don't know if she has a middle name; what her favorite flower is; does likes to read; what kind of music does she listen to. These are things that I want to know… and everything else, too. What causes the sadness I see behind her eyes…How I can make it go away…

But I didn't get to find out any of those things. Between my nervousness-now- turned-frustration and talk about the assignment, two hours flew by and she was leaving.

And it became awkward. And I, nervous. And stuttered and stumbled through a diner invitation because I didn't want her to leave. I wanted to talk to her, get to know her a bit better but she said she had _plans._ Ugh!

And then, I realized I didn't even offer her a glass of water the whole two hours we've been researching. Nothing! Where the fuck did my manners go? My mom raised me better than that. She probably thinks I'm such a prick!

And if that's not enough, I ended our meeting by yelling at her. Jesus! I am a prick. It's just that she's always saying that damn phrase. _'It's okay.' _

She is so infuriating.

No, Isabella, it's not okay! Not until you let me in. Not until you let me make it better. Because I know I can. At least, I want to try.

I bet her smile is amazing. I've never seen it. God knows I want to.

I can't wait to listen to her laugh.

I want to make her laugh; at me or with me, it doesn't matter.

Okay. So new mission in life: Make Isabella laugh.

* * *

What did I get myself into?

She was going to jump last night.

If I hadn't gotten there in time… I don't want to think about it.

I was bored and anxious at home, so I decided to go for a drive. I drove through town, passing her house along the way. All lights were out. I decided to keep going, finding myself navigating through the winding roads of the cliffs leading to the beach.

I saw her truck parked beside the road. Nobody could miss that monstrosity.

And instinct kicked in. I don't remember parking or getting out of my car. I don't remember running. I just remember asking myself why she would decide to here so late at night? And with who? Because surely she wouldn't be here at night alone.

Yet, there she was. Alone, apparently drunk and standing at the edge of a cliff.

I screamed her name again and again until she turned around. My heart was coming out of my chest. Confusion marred her beautiful face but just for a couple of seconds. Then all I saw was anger. Murderous, fury-filled anger seeped from her eyes, her mouth and her stance. I think she would have thrown me off the cliffs at that moment if I were standing any closer.

I was panicking before realizing what was going on. No other soul was around. How could she come here to drink all by herself? Didn't she realize how dangerous that was?

But then I started to get angry. An anger more intense and raw than the one emanating off her. Because yes, she knew and she came anyway.

She made the decision to come here and do this to herself.

What the fuck happened between leaving my house and this? Because I'm fairly confident she didn't leave my house feeling suicidal.

Right?

Right, okay. So something happened.

Do I want to get in the middle of this? Do I want to know this side of her? Because it doesn't look good.

I don't think this is a cry for attention. She doesn't like that, at all. I've seen in it in the way she puts on that mask every day. Trying to blend in and fade away from sight. And the sad part was she almost succeeded.

Almost, because I saw.

And while she was ranting and raving, I made a decision. I need to see this through. I need to see if I can do this. I have to try and convince her that she can trust me. That she can let me in. That I won't hurt her like others have.

It's going to be difficult. I understand that. But my gut tells me I have to. I feel like if I don't, I'll miss out. On what, I don't know. But I'll always think about it, about her and wonder: what if. What if I tried a little harder, stuck it out, let her get to know me, albeit little by little?

And as I looked at her, still ranting I might add, I know I have to be careful. I have to convince her to give me a chance without making her run away from me.

She needs to see me. Just me. And that's what I'll show her. If she gives me the chance to, that is.

"Okay," I said to myself but apparently out loud because she then asked,

"Okay what?" she said with just a little desperation in her tone.

I just look at her… and all the possibilities run through my mind.

I feel myself smirk. Here goes….everything.

"So, what are we drinking?"


	15. Polka Dots

**Chapter 15: Polka Dots**

Sorry, sorry, sorry! I know it's been a while but moving has made me it's bitch! And I'm still not done.

Thank you all for your interest in my little story. Your reviews make my day!

Shout out to The No Rules Twilight fan fic Recs Club on FB, especially the lovely Musette Blanchard.

And of course a million hugs and kisses and chocolate to my beautiful Phoebe 44, beta extraordinaire.

* * *

_**Bella**_

What am I doing?

What the hell did I get myself into?

Did I just make a deal with the devil? Because that's how it feels.

A month! What the FUCK am I going to do for a month with Edward Cullen?

And what the FUCK is Edward Cullen going to do for a whole month with ME?

Probably die of boredom.

No, no, no, no, no, no. I have to get out of this. This is ridiculous! He must have laced the French toast with something to make me agree to this insanity!

How he managed to get Dad to let him inside the house, first of all, has me baffled. How the hell did he manage that? I mean, I know I'm no looker but still, I'm a girl. For Dad to let a BOY hang around the house while I'm all alone and asleep… yeah, real smart, Chief! Thanks so much for worrying about my safety and virtue.

I sigh to myself. Of course he knows I wouldn't have done anything… you know, to that boy or with that boy. Or any boy, really! Maybe that's why.

Dude, but still! Some warning would have been nice. He doesn't know I go around the house in my underwear when he's not around, but he should know that I would have had a heart attack finding someone other than him inside the house.

Maybe he's going senile. I'm getting him an appointment with Dr. Gerardy for next week. He definitely needs his head checked out.

It's Sunday and I have a million and one things to do but I'm petrified. I don't know how to come out from under the cave of sheets and comforter I have surrounding me so I can get up and out of bed to start the day. This feeling… of uncertainty, of not knowing what I'm going to find once I open my bedroom door has me glued to the mattress.

Edward Cullen has thrown my life into a spin; into the washing machine and the dryer both at once because I feel so out of control… spinning, spinning, spinning and drowning at the same time. And I'm not even out of bed yet.

Speaking of laundry, I got a couple of baskets to fold. Ugh!

* * *

Finally getting my body and brain to connect, I get out of bed. After a bathroom stop and a change into comfortable pajama pants and a clean shirt – because I am not going to get caught in my UNDERWEAR again! – I make it downstairs. Yes, I ridiculously check the kitchen and living room for signs of another human being creeping out on me again but find myself alone.

Just how I like it.

Relaxed somewhat, I start the boring task of folding the laundry from yesterday while the TV drones on in the background. I think it's the news but I turned it on just for the background noise.

Edward Cullen… What does he want from me? I still don't get it. What is his endgame? To be my friend? Pfft! I doubt it. I'm nobody. I'm nothing. What does he want, then? Is he really that bored? I know Forks is totally lame but come on! I'm sure he can find something to do: play some video games, troll Facebook, wash his car, do some laundry, read a book that is not a comic book or a Hustler, go to Port Angeles, hang out with his friends… Anything else is better than hanging out with me.

Suddenly, the door bell rings and I just know my Sunday got shot to Hell. There is only one person who it could be…

I groan to myself as I walk to the door…_Let it begin._

"Good morning!" he says just as I open the door. Dark blue jeans, white t-shirt and converse. Yep…Hell on earth.

"Hi, Edward," I greet him half standing behind the door. "What's up?"

He goes for the innocent puppy eyes and shrugs, "Oh, well I just thought we could hang out today. Since its Sunday and all…"

I look at him for a minute, contemplating how to get out of this. I think he can sense it.

"Come on, Bella. A bet's a bet." He smiles, wide. Why is he so happy, dammit!

"Well…it's just… See, Sundays I have lots to do around the house. I really can go out right now. Raincheck?" I ask him looking down, twirl-toeing the floor with my socks.

He looks at me for a second, probably looking for signs that I'm lying.

"Okay! How can I help?" he says clapping his hands and inviting himself inside.

I turn around, gaping. He continues walking to the living room. I finally have the sense of mind to stop imitating a fish and blurt out, "What are you doing?!"

He assesses the mountain of laundry on the sofa and just…sits down and takes one of Charlie's shirts.

"Folding laundry, apparently." He says this while folding the shirt neatly and putting it on the coffee table with the rest of the ones I've already folded.

I'm still holding the door open, stunned because I just can't believe Edward Cullen is on my sofa… folding laundry.

"Well, am I doing this alone or are you going to help?" he asks without taking his eyes off a pair of Dad's socks.

I don't say anything. I close the door and walk to the living room in a trance. He already has another shirt on his hands and looks up at me, smiling.

I've entered the Twilight Zone.

I find my voice again.

"Edward, really. You don't have to – "

"No! Don't start. You agreed we would do this. If Sundays are laundry day at Casa de Swan, then this is what we're doing." He keeps folding and I keep looking because I can't believe it.

I'm gnawing on my bottom lip, anxiousness creeping in. It's not that he can't be here. Charlie wouldn't care. It's just… I don't know what to do in this type of situation. Another person in my house that's not Dad, Billy or Jacob… or invited, for all it's worth!

"Uh… Would you like something to drink…eat?" I ask him.

"No thanks, I'm good," he says smiling, again. "Come on, sit down and help me. There sure is a lot of laundry for two people here."

I sigh to myself. He's not leaving. Might as well. Since he took my spot on the sofa, I sit on the floor beside another pile and start folding.

We fold and fold and fold. In silence. I try to look at him every now and then trying not to get caught. Sometimes he catches me and looks down at me, always with that ever-present stupidly gorgeous smile on his face. My scowl is permanent. And apparently, it does not bother him in the least.

"All done," he says and I see the sofa is empty of clothes, "do you have any more?" he asks clapping his hands on his knees, like this is soo exciting.

I'm flabbergasted. "Uh… Yeah, there is more inside the dryer. I'll get it."

"Stay put. I'll get it." He gets up, takes a basket and disappears into the kitchen where the entrance to the laundry room is located.

In less than two minutes he's back with a full-basket and sits again on the sofa. Smiling.

My stupification is dwindling and my irritation is rising. I finish my share and start piling the folded shirts and socks in my arms to take upstairs.

"I'm taking these upstairs." I tell him.

"Need some help?" he asks and gets up again.

"No, I can handle it,"I tell him pointedly. "Thanks," I add because I don't want to be rude, even if it bothers me that he's here… touching… stuff.

He sits back down and continues with his work while I make a couple of trips up to Dad's room. What I find downstairs when I finally get back to the living room would be funny if it weren't happening to me.

I wish I had a camera to capture his face!

I find Edward wide-eyed and slack-jawed still sitting on the couch holding a pair of pink polka-dot bikini panties up to his face. And what worse, he's inching them closer and closer trying to read what's inside the little dots.

I run to him and snatch them from his hands, "Dude!" I mean, I know they're clean but come on!

He retracts his hand like they were on fire. "Wha…" he's looks up all dazed while rubbing his fingers absentmindedly.

"No touching my underwear!" I tell him, like scolding a bad puppy.

"I… I… I'm sorry, I took it from the pile without looking and then… they were in my hands… and I… I…" he drifts off.

"Jesus, Cullen! You're acting like you've never seen girl's panties before! Snap out of it!" I hiss at him, waving said panties around. He's not looking at me, still staring at them in my hand.

"Yo! Up here!" I snap my fingers with my other hand close to his face. He finally looks at me.

A couple of seconds later his eyes clear up from his panties-induced haze and he chuckles scrubbing his face with one hand.

"Sorry," he says, smiling sheepishly now.

"Yeah, yeah," I grumble at him and sit back down on the floor. "You can fold Charlie's underwear if it's in that pile but mine is off limits!" I tell him. "Just leave it and I'll get it when I'm done with this basket, clear?"

"Crystal," he says.

I humph and continue folding.

"Why were they in this pile anyway? This is all your dad's clothes?" he asks. "I mean, isn't laundry supposed to be done separately? Like, all whites washed separately from the dark ones… all underwear and socks done separately…?"

He fell right into that one. I don't know which one of us has a redder face. His from realizing he's talking about my underwear or mine because I'm trying not to strangle him.

"My clothes are old enough the colors don't bleed anymore when washed."

This is mortifying. My cheeks are flaming. Not only do I have to keep talking about my underwear but I also have to explain my cleaning habits and point out that my clothes, _including my underwear_, are old enough that they won't damage any of my Dad's clothes when washed together.

"And I don't have much. It's mostly Dad's stuff so I just wash everything together."

"Oh," he says.

Yeah, oh.

_Where is a lighting storm when I need one to strike me dead?! Or a hole in the floor to swallow me up right know. _

Silence. More folding. I start to somewhat relax and my cheeks are starting to feel cooler now.

"I think they're cute," he whispers.

"What?" I stupidly ask.

"The polka dots."

Cue face on fire!

* * *

Since he insists on still being here after all the laundry was folded and stowed away, I decided some payback was in order. He is currently cleaning the freezer.

All the frakking frozen fish, ice cream, chicken fillets, everything is down on the fridge and he is hacking away all at the ice with an ice pick. He looks like a total Neanderthal. A totally hot Neanderthal.

I never clean the freezer so thoroughly but hey, he wants to help so…

Grunting away, he sometimes pokes his head inside, I'm guessing to look closely at his progress.

"Dammitt," he mumbles.

"What is it?" I ask, trying not to sound as if I'm laughing on the inside. I'm probably failing.

He steps away from the freezer sighing, "This last piece is really stuck in there," he turns around slumping against it.

I blink at him. It would be funny if it wasn't so hot, but he's drenched. The front of his white shirt is soaked and covered with bits and pieces of all the ice that's flying around. It's like Saran Wrap, totally clinging to his well-defined abs.

He will be mopping the floor after that.

I can't help it. I'm obviously checking him out. But who wouldn't, seriously.

I know the awkward silence is stretching but I can't make my mouth form a syllable.

He clears his throat. I continue to stare. He stands up straight and fidgets with his soaked shirt. And I'm still staring.

He chuckles, "Bella?"

Hearing my name snaps me out of the stuck-to-his-skin-soaked-shirt devil trance.

"Huh?" is my eloquent comeback. I finally look at his face. He's trying not to laugh at me. Still, that smirk…damn!

"I said that last bit is really stuck in there. Do you think we can leave it?" he asks.

I blink back looking at the inside of the freezer, "Uh…yeah, sure. It's fine."

"Great!" he exclaims and starts taking the stuff from inside the fridge that goes up in the freezer. Now, my view is of his… backside. Those Levi's fit him perfectly. Mmmmmm…

He turns around, "So?"

Oh shit!

"What?!" Caught ogling again.

Now he really laughs at me with one hand pulling on his hair. "I asked if you would lend me a towel or something. I'm dripping…"

Oh God!

"Oh! Yeah, yeah. Be right back!" I kind of yell at him, setting down the dish I was putting away while clearing the dishwasher.

I run upstairs for a towel and go into Charlie's room for a shirt. That can't be comfortable. Dad's a little bigger than him size-wise but I know there is a Fork Police shirt in here that would fit him perfectly. Dad hasn't been able to fit into it for quite a while, so I use to sleep in it sometimes.

As I come out of Dad's room, I notice my bedroom door open. I never leave it open.

I peek inside and what I see takes my breath away.

Edward.

In my room.

Shirtless.

He's walking around, looking at everything I own. Thankfully, he's not touching anything. I'm parts thrilled and parts scared shitless. I look around hoping I don't see a bra lying about that he can see; though that would be pointless since he's already folded some of my undies.

I unconsciously grunt and the sound makes him turn around. At least, he has the decency to look embarrassed.

"Sorry." He smiles bashfully, "I wrung out the shirt on the sink and left it there. It was getting too cold."

Nodding and without a word, I hand him the towel and the shirt. He thanks me and I'm still mute. Making use of the towel, he then slips on the shirt. The dark green of the shirt brings out the color of his eyes. He is so fucking pretty I can't stand it!

"Hey! It fits," he says looking back up at me. "This is your Dad's?"

I smile at him a little and nod.

"You sure he won't mind?" he asks.

I shake my head and finally…Finally! My mouth decides to work. "It's doesn't fit him anymore. I usually use it to sleep in."

I don't know why but my statement makes him freeze. "Oh."

Oh?

"Is that okay? I can get you another one but it may look too big on you?" I say and start retreating to the hallway and into Dad's room but he suddenly yells. "No!" And I freeze mid spin.

I turn back around and he's… He has the collar up to his nose. Smelling it?

I huff. "It's clean, Edward. I would never give you a dirty shirt to wear!"

He shoulders slumps for some reason. "Yeah, no it's fine. Thank you, again."

Man, this kid is weird.

"So, this is your room," he states.

"Yes," I say crossing my arms and leaning on the door frame.

"I like it!" he tells me, smiling wide.

"O-kay…." I say cautiously because I don't see what the fuzz is about: bed, desk with a laptop, dresser, books on the shelves; pretty standard I think.

He goes to the dresser and starts looking at all the crap I have on it which makes me a little uncomfortable: my hair brush, lip gloss, some earrings, a music box Dad got me for my fifth birthday, and some pictures stuck to the mirror frame. What is so great about it?

"Is this your mom?" he asks pointing at the only picture I have of her. It was my fourth birthday. It's the last one we celebrated together.

I make a sound of acknowledgment because I _really_ don't want to get into the horrid subject that is my ovum donor.

"She's very pretty," he says still looking at the picture. When I don't say anything back, he finally looks up. "Where is she? Does she work? I haven't seen here around?" he asks casually, not knowing what he's doing to me.

"Uhm…" I have to clear my throat to answer him because even if I don't want to accept it, it's painful.

"She's not here."

"Oh? She works in Port A? My dad says a lot of people from here go to work there, since there's not much here," he rambles, "He goes to the hospital there to do a midnight shift every two weeks. It's not that far away, right, like maybe two hours or so?… But still, two hours spent on your car after a hard-day's work is brutal."

He's expecting an answer that I don't want to give him.

"She…She doesn't work in PA," I stutter.

His expectant look does me in.

"She left two days after that picture was taken," I say to the floor because I can't look at him.

"She left?"

"Yep."

"To go where?"

"Away… from here."

From me.

The seconds that pass in silence are drowning me.

"She just left you… and your dad?" There's shock in his face.

I think my English in very clear. I don't understand why he's asking, so I don't respond.

"Just like that?!" he kind of yells at me. And I'm starting to get a bit irritated.

"Yes! Just like that! Now, can we please drop it?"

"But… but why?!"

"Why what?!"

"Why did she leave? I mean, she just left you with your dad at what... What were you… four years old?!" he says looking back at the picture with the big four on the birthday cake.

"Yes," I say reluctantly.

"But why? Shit, that has got to – "

"Edward, stop it! She left! She just left, okay! One night she just packed a suitcase to the brim and left. End of story. Now, drop it. Please…" The last part comes out all choked and shit. Humph, like I'm gonna cry for that woman. Not anymore. No way.

His face scrunches and he pulls on his hair again.

"Shit. Sorry, Bella. I just… I wasn't expecting any of that," he says.

I shrug. It's… whatever.

"Are you okay?" he asks apprehensively.

"Of course!" I scoff. Why wouldn't I be?

He blinks at me, I guess trying to read if I'm lying.

Good luck, buddy.

"Again, I'm sorr – " he starts to apologize again and I just want to throttle him.

"It's okay. Look, thanks for your help but Charlie will be home soon and I have to start dinner."

Definition: You have overstayed your 'welcome'. Now, get out.

He visibly deflates but I don't care. He needs to go.

"All right," he says.

We walk downstairs, straight to the door and I open it.

"My shirt…" he stops, angling towards the kitchen.

"Don't worry about. I'll clean it and get it back to you," I tell him, holding the door open. I know I'm being rude but shit, he has to go!

He drags his feet toward the door and turns once he's outside. "Thank you for letting me hang out today," he says, hands in his pocket, a little smile on his lips.

"Uh, thanks for helping," I say because even if I want to be rude, he helped me out a lot.

"My pleasure," he says, "Really."

"Okay…" I'm sure my face is beet red.

"I'll see you tomorrow at school, then."

"Yep, see ya."

He jogs back to his car and when he turns to get in I get caught looking, again.

He smirks and waves.

I frown and wave back.

Ugh! Tomorrow…


	16. To Hell and hell

**Chapter 16: ****To Hell and… hell**

Hello...

Sorry for the wait...

Writing fic is hard, dude!

But let's get on with it. Any remaining fuck ups are mine. I like to tinker.

Oh! And Phoebe44 is the whip cream to my strawberries.

* * *

_**Bella**_

There are days when I can't keep it together. Today is one of them. It started like any other normal one, I guess.

Get up, get ready for school, and go downstairs. Start the coffee, stare at the inside of the fridge for five minutes to see if I could muster the will to cook myself some breakfast. I close it empty-handed. Take a granola bar from the cupboard and put in my backpack for later and then stare at the coffee machine so it will hurry up. And then...

I hear Dad's boots on the stairs, "Bella!"

"Yeah?!" I yell back, still staring daggers at the damn drip machine.

"Where is my PD shirt? The green one!"

He never wears that shirt. I doesn't fit! But of course, he wants it today.

"It should be in one of your drawers!" I yell back because apparently that's how we're communicating this morning.

I now where the shirt is… it left the house with someone who looks much better in it.

"Are you sure it's not in your room? I need it, dammit!"

I sigh and make my way to him because, really.

"Dad, that shirt doesn't fit you anymore. Why do you want it?" I'm exhausted already and it's not even 7 AM.

"Of course it still fits! We're doing some charity work today at the hospital. We're all wearing that shirt, for the pictures and stuff…" he says, huffing.

"Well if it's not in your room, then maybe you left it at Billy's because I don't have it," I lie, more or less.

He starts arguing but I can't deal, so…

"Dad!" I say putting my hand out in a way that says CALM. DOWN. NOW. Thankfully, he stops yammering.

"I'm sure there are more of those shirts at the station. Get one of those," I point out.

He mumbles something to himself and nods.

"Okay. The coffee will be ready in a minute," I tell him, turning around into the kitchen. He follows.

"Did you clean the freezer yesterday? There was water under the fridge last night when I got home," he asks.

"Oh, yeah. Probably missed some of the ice chips that fell out," I mumble. Stupid Cullen.

Forgot to make him clean it up and I ended up moping it.

"Hey, and what happened to all my other shirts?" he asks from behind me.

"What do you mean?" I ask, getting two mugs down from the cupboard.

"I don't know, but they look like a five year-old folded them. And my socks and underwear, too. It's a mess," he says.

And I'm confused.

"I don't understand," I reiterate out loud as I blow steam off my coffee. Because I don't. What's the problem?

I put that laundry away myself and even though Edward did most of it, I think it looked okay.

He shrugs, "It's just… I like how you usually fold them, just like your Mom di –"

I'm frozen mid sip as he catches himself.

I can't believe him! The nerve!

He clears his throat and tries again, "I, I mean…uh…It wasn't the same as you normally fold it…so...I noticed…"

If one could just really kill with a look, I would have committed patricide right then and there.

"I'm… gonna go." I put my still-filled mug of coffee in the sink and leave him standing there.

Universe – 1

Bella – 0

* * *

It doesn't get any better at school. Hallways filled with too many people and too much noise. Classrooms filled with the incessant lectures of already bored teachers and it's only/still September. The few students who pay attention are the lucky ones. Their time passes efficiently while for those of us who couldn't care less, time feels like it moves backwards instead of forward. I swear the clock at the top of the blackboard just went back five minutes. Might as well, since what awaits me in the cafeteria is far worse than this slow, cruel torture.

I sound like a period British movie. Too much Netflix, I guess.

Finally, the bell goes off and I drag myself out of the classroom. I know I probably look like I feel but I don't have it in me today to pretend. As I said, it's one of those days.

I'm standing just outside the cafeteria doors. I just can't go in there. I don't want to go in there. People bump into me as they pass since I'm in their way. I'm trying to tell my feet to move back and just go somewhere else but to no avail. I'm just stuck.

"Hey, Bella!" I hear as an arm threads itself to one of mine and starts pulling. I look at manicured nails. Jessica.

"Hey," is all I can muster. My body reacts and I disentangle myself from her. She forgets most of time I don't like to be touched. Or maybe she doesn't care.

"Why are you standing there? Come on!" she laughs awkwardly.

I think I manage to smile back. I'm not sure.

"You okay?" she asks as we walk in.

I can only nod. Apparently speech takes too much effort, too.

She fills her tray and I get a water. Food looks gross as always.

We go sit at the usual table, me in my usual chair, surrounded by the usual people having the fucking usual stupid conversations. I look, and nod, and finally pretend somewhat to be interested. It physically starts to hurt, this pretending. Or maybe it's just a normal headache.

My eyes wander around the cafeteria only to find a pair of intense green ones staring back. He smiles; well, more smirks at me while stretching his long arms up above his head. I just stare at him. He then ruffles up his hair and slouches with his elbows on the table. The smirk is gone. Now he just looks concerned.

Still looking at me, though. Still don't get what he wants.

"Helloooooo, Earth to Bella!" someone says while a grape hits me in the face.

"The fu—" I start but remember where I am.

"What was that for, Lauren?" Oh, this bitch...

"Tyler asked you a question. You were apparently off in dream land," she says looking in the direction of Edward's table. When she looks back at me, it's with narrowed curious eyes.

"And you just had to throw food at me? Jeez!" She just shrugs back. This bitch...

"What, Tyler?" I ask not caring at all I probably sound just as bitchy as her.

"Oh, uhm…" he starts, all awkward like I'm gonna bite his head off or something. Totally want to, but I won't.

"I asked if you were doing something for your birthday. It's the big 18! It deserves a party, right?" he says and high-fives Mike who's sitting in front of him.

I hear a tray clatter on the floor behind me but don't pay any mind to it. I just stare back at him. I don't have the energy to deal with him. Thankfully, Angela comes to the rescue.

"Tyler, you know Bella doesn't celebrate her birthday. Back off," says the saint sitting by my side. I manage to smile my thanks at her and of course, Ms. Mallory has to put her two cents in.

"Why is that? I mean really, you don't do anything for your birthday?" she asks me while buffing her already perfect nails.

I sigh. "No, I don't. It's a normal day as always. I'll make dinner for Charlie and me and…" I shrug and leave it at that because really… I'm looking in my mind palace for a fuck to give but apparently, I left them at home. There is nothing else to say. Dad knows I don't acknowledge the date and don't want him to, either. He has tried in the past, getting a cake with candles and shit. But the hissy fit I threw at him last time he did it worked and he hasn't tried it again since.

"God! You're so lame!" Lauren exclaims just as the bells rings.

"Lauren!" Angie yells in disgust.

"And you're such a whore," I murmur to myself.

Lauren just sneers back at Angela, looks at me and struts out of the cafeteria with the posse in tow.

"God! Bella, I'm so sorry about Lauren. I have no idea what is up with her today!" she says to me like she's Lauren's mother.

"Angie, please. Don't worry about it," I tell her as we get our things and start moving toward the hall. She stops me in front of my bio class door. "Here," she says and hands me a little brown paper bag, "Bye, B."

"What is it?" I ask her as she's walking away to her class down the hall. I open the bag and see a big walnut brownie with icing and powdered sugar in a little plastic container.

"Angela!" I yell back because she knows.

"What? You didn't eat anything. That's just in case your sugar gets too low," she yells at me walking backwards and smirking. People and their smirks.

I look back inside the bag and I swear there is glittering confetti or some shit in the bottom of the bag. She just can't help herself.

I huff out a thank you I know she sees from afar and she blows me a kiss. Can't stay mad at her. She's good people.

Edward is already sitting at our table when I get there.

"Hey," he says. I grunt out my greeting.

"How are you?"

Well, he's chatty. I give a non committal shrug and throw my bags on the table. I sit and slouch, so over with this day already.

"No words for me today?" he asks with a smile, looking at me. He's sitting up with his elbows on the table, arms crossed and his chin resting on his shoulder.

I blink slowly at him trying to convey without words how I'm feeling.

"Okay," he says. He gets me.

Mr. Banner starts his ramblings about God knows what and I just sit there staring at the front of the room. I don't care to take notes; it's all in the textbook, so why bother. I sense Edward peeking at me from time to time but… I left my fucks to give at home, remember?

Not soon enough the bells rings and everybody jumps out of their seats like they're on fire. As I'm picking up my stuff, he asks, "So, where do you usually sit?"

I look at him confused because that came out of nowhere.

"Huh?" I say because I'm ready to say 'in a chair, duh!' but I don't want to sound bitchy. Not to him anyway.

He rolls his eyes at me and I want to smack him now, so he gets the bitch brow.

"At the pep rally. Where do you usually sit?" he tells me as we start walking out the door.

"Pep rally?"

"Yes."

"When is it?"

"Today, Bella," he says flatly while waving his hand up toward the hall filled with banners announcing today's pep rally.

"Ugh!" I say with all the disgust I can muster.

"The banners have been up for a week! You really didn't see them?" he asks frustrated.

I sigh. God! Can this day get any worse? I'll have to spend the last two hours of school sitting in the most uncomfortable bleachers known to mankind listening to the principal, the coach, the fucking cheerleaders and everyone else who wants to talk about school spirit.

_God, I'm ready. Right now. Chop chop!_

He sighs, "Come on. We don't want to be late."

He takes my hand and static electricity shoots up my arm. We both freeze. He turns around looking at our hands and then back at my face. He waits for me to break free but…. I don't. And he doesn't either. A slow smirk appears on his lips.

"Come," he whispers and tugs my arm. My feet move on their own because I'm still in shock. It's still buzzing around… on my hand, my arm, creeping up to my chest. It's a fuzzy, tingly feeling. Not unpleasant at all.

He manages to get me inside the gym and I finally have the sense of mind to drop his hand.

"I just gonna…" I say gesturing to where Angela and the rest are sitting. I look at him and he's staring at his hand with… a disappointed look on his face?

"Oh!" He says looking up to where I'm signaling and starts to say, "Well, um… would you like to sit wi—"

Then a large bear-like hand pats his back making him stumble forward.

"Come on, E! Let's muster some school spirit! Woohoo!" the owner of the said bear-like hand shouts while dragging him toward the other side of the bleachers. I just stand there staring at the hulk of a man manhandling Edward. It's funny. He tries to stop and say something else but the guy is too strong, I guess and he just waves goodbye at me.

"Hi, Bella!" Pixie yells at me walking towards them, jumping up and down, I might add.

I just wave and shake my head. Let's get this over with.

* * *

I didn't make it inside the door of my house. I had to sit down on the steps off the porch before I face-planted. The nerve of that woman!

I survived the pep rally from hell even when Lauren decided to talk shit about me while my ass is sitting three feet away. I have no idea what she has against me, but she's whatever, so… whatever.

But that is not what has me trying to control my breathing. I know I'm hyperventilating but it's not working. The nerve of that woman!

I close my eyes and try to distract my thoughts. If this keeps going, Charlie is going to find me passed out on the porch, birthday card in hand.

I didn't think she would send one this year after what happened. I really didn't think about it, period. But for the first time in all of my birthdays, the stupid card arrived on time. I usually get one three weeks late or none at all. Yeah, but this time… this time she remembered? I snort to myself. Not likely. Charlie probably had to remind her. He's on my shit list now.

I'm twitching. I can't control it. I'm trying to stay in one piece. I open my eyes and breathe deep in long and out long, looking up to the sky. It's like I'm screaming on the inside but can't open my mouth to get it out.

I want to scratch myself out of this… of this skin… this body… OUT. OFF. OFF. OFF!

I don't notice him until he's sitting beside me.

"Hey," he says, cautiously.

I whimper. Huh. My inner struggle must be showing.

I let the damn card fall out of my hands and slump forward, putting by elbows on my knees and grip my head, "Not today, Cullen."

My face is buried in between my hair and my forearms. I'm trying to not care that he is seeing me like this but I'm embarrassed. Just a little.

I think he's already left when I hear him say, "Okay."

I try to look at him from the confines of my hair and he is just sitting there, looking out to the street.

Huh.

I keep breathing and strangely, I marginally feel the panic dissipating. I have to admit the warm energy I feel coming from my left side is making me calm down. He's not even touching me but I still feel him. Feel him there without looking. It's… comforting.

I sigh one long exhale and look up uncovering my face from my hair. I chance a peek at him and his brows are bunched together with a grimace in place…. he's reading the card.

Great. Just great.

He mumble-reads it.

"What the – " He got to the good part, I'm guessing.

His face holds incredibility and some… shock, I guess. And I think I'm seeing some anger there, too. Yep, that woman can sure write!

"The nerve of this woman!" he hissed closing the card and looking at it like it might explode. I would be chuckling if I had the energy.

He huffs and pulls his hair, "Who sent you this shit?"

I look at him and gnaw at my lips. I can't talk.

"Bella?" he asks, now with pity in his eyes, just what I need it.

He fishes the envelope up from the ground and reads the return address.

"Fuck! Is this from your mo–"

"Nuh-uh," I mumble shaking my head.

_Don't you dare finish that word, Cullen. I don't have a moth–_

Even I can't finish it.

"But Bella! She just– "

"Nuh-uh."

"How can she–"

"Nuh-uh."

"How dare she write–"

"EDWARD STOP!"

Just stop, please.

He finally shuts up and is puffing something fierce from what I can hear. I can't look at him anymore. It's so embarrassing it hurts.

_Rip!_

My eyes snap open to seen him ripping out the offending piece of stationary. He keeps ripping until there's confetti on his hands and throws it upward to the sky.

I probably resemble a gaping fish, "Wha…"

Tiny bits of paper are floating all around us. He looks at them like they have personally offended him. He turns to look at me.

I still can't form a sentence.

He quietly says it.

"Fuck her."

A not so lady-like snort escapes me. I mean, really?

He stands up and starts pacing.

"Yeah, fuck her! If she can't see what a beautiful person you are, inside and out I might add, then I say fuck her!"

What the hell?

"I mean, how can a person write that kind of shit to her daughter?! And on a birthday card for Christ's sake!"

He keeps on rambling, pulling his hair and stomping where he's pacing.

"Uh, Edward?"

"If I ever see that woman, I'm going to give her a piece of my mind! Oh yes I will! Don't you dare tell me otherwise."

Who is this guy?!

"Uh, no. I—"

"No Bella! She is an inconsiderate human being! She can't treat you that way! If I—"

Wow. Just wow.

"But I ju—"

"No! Don't you defend her! Has she always been like this?"

"Well, yeah bu—"

"Then why the hell do you even talk to her? I mean… Oh my God!"

He finally stops ranting. But not the pacing. Or the hair pulling.

He's close enough for me to touch his leg so he finally stops and looks at me.

I pat the space besides me. He kind of deflates and sits down.

I look at him in silence until he turns those beautiful green eyes my way.

"Too much for you, Cullen?" I ask him with a sad smirk.

He just blinks back.

"It only gets worse from here on out. You sure you want in on this?" I ask because he HAS to realize it.

"What you see is NOT what you get, here", I say pointing at myself, "This is just a shell, a mask, a paint job, an illusion, a mirage, a—"

He tsks at me, reprovingly.

"There is nothing inside, nothing worth it, anyway. It's all bitterness and resentment. Pessimism and… and… hollowyness."

I don't think that's a word but I'm trying to get a point across, dammit!

"Hollowness, Bella," he whispers.

"Yes, that."

We are silent for a couple of minutes. Me, I'm trying very much to prepare myself for his 'See ya around, Swan.' Him, he's probably debating how to say it without being callous.

"I can see that," he says.

See, I'm right. He's going to let me down easy. From what, I don't know – we are nothing to each other, really - but I'm guessing he's trying not to be too much of a dick.

"But…"

Oh God! I think this will hurt worse that the goddamn letter.

"I see what you're protecting inside," he whispers to me.

_Blink._

"I see through all that hurt and pain. I can see it, because I was like that too… once. It festers and consumes you until you have nothing to give, nothing to feel, nothing to live for."

No. I can't listen to this. I bury my face in my hands. He needs to stop talking!

"No. Hear me out, please," he says talking my hands from my face, "don't shut me out. Listen."

I huff and puff because I don't want to cry in front of him again.

"I know you're at your wit's end. I can see it. How's it possible that none of your _supposed_ friends or even your father see it?! I'll never understand."

Oh God!

"Just… just let me in. Let me help you, please!" he says desperately.

I'm shaking my head. Who is this guy?

"Edward, no. You don't have to. I'm fi—"I start, trying to get him off the hook he thinks he's bound to.

"I'm your friend, Bella. Your friend. And I can't see you hurting. I just can't! Please."

We just stare at each other. Me, incredulous of what happening; him, desperately waiting for an answer.

"I don't understand what you want from me. I never have," I whisper.

He slowly sits up and puts his arms around me.

A hug.

I'm engulfed in Edward. His arms and chest surround me, my face on the crook of his neck.

"I just want to know you, the real you."

A sob escapes me, "You won't like the real me. Nobody does. Everyone leaves _that_ me."

"I won't, I swear I won't," he whispers into my hair.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," I tell him.

I always end up with all the broken ones.

"Please?" he asks again.

This would be the last straw that would break my back. If I put my trust in him and then….

"Okay," I say into his neck.

His sighs big, "thank you."

I got nothing left to lose.

Since I'm going to Hell and all, might as well fuck myself thoroughly.

* * *

Thanks for reading.


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